Champions
by Just Wolf
Summary: After Cedric talks to Harry at the Yule Ball, Harry begins to think he might be more than just a Pretty Boy. Exploring the possibilities of a relationship between them during GoF. Feedback is appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One – Under Water 

(i)

"Er, Harry, can I have a word?" Cedric was looking at him tentatively.

Ron was sitting sullenly in his chair at the side of the great hall, glowering at Hermione. Harry looked Cedric over. He couldn't see Cho anywhere, which was something of a relief.

"Yeah, okay," he said, standing up, and following Cedric out of the Great Hall. Ron's eyes were still focused on Hermione.

"Let's go for a walk," Cedric said, and gave him a small smile.

Harry tried to muster one up too as he gave another, "okay," and matched Cedric's stride. Cedric seemed keen to get as far away from the castle as possible.

"Do you really like Cho?" Cedric asked quietly, when they were near the lake, the Durmstrang ship gleaming at them eerily. "It's just… she told me you asked her to the ball."

Harry felt himself flush, with both shame and anger.

"Not really your business," he said, quickly, trying to quell the urge to run away or to set a blast-ended skrewt on Cedric.

"I'm sorry," Cedric said. "I – what I meant was – it's okay, if you do, I'm not really … going out with her."

"You brought her to the ball, didn't you?" Harry said. It wasn't fair, Cedric bringing the girl that he, Harry, really did like.

"Well, I had to bring a _girl_, didn't I?" Cedric said.

Harry glanced up at the emphasis placed on the word 'girl'. His lips parted slightly.

"Listen, Harry," Cedric said. "About the egg. That's what I was going to talk about."

"What about it?" Harry asked, feeling himself remaining hostile.

"Take a bath," Cedric. "Take a bath. It'll help you think."

"Take a bath?" Harry repeated.

"Yeah," said Cedric. He stayed silent for so long Harry considered walking away from him. They were still strolling along beside the lake.

But then he spoke again. "You can even use the Prefect's bathroom," he said.

"Why would I?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's nice in there."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Cedric sighed softly. "You helped on the first task he said. And," he paused, seemingly struggling with himself. "And I like you, Harry."

Cedric stopped walking, and looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry found himself struggling too. The meaningful look didn't convey the same emotions as Ludo Bagman had expressed with his "I've taken a liking to you." This 'like' meant the way he liked Cho, the way Hermione seemed to like Krum.

"I…er…I," Harry said, feeling heartily confused.

Cedric touched his arm. "I don't expect anything," he said. Harry felt like all the sensation in his body had suddenly gone to that place on his arm.

"Meet me in the entrance hall, tomorrow, at one o'clock," Cedric said, speaking quickly, as if he expected Harry to run away. "I can – help you with the clue."

He paused again, nervously, and then said, straightening his shoulders like he was summoning up his courage. "Please, just, _think _about it Harry."

Harry found himself nodding. He didn't know what to do, what to say, what to think, he was standing stock still and Cedric was walking away, down beside the lake, Cedric who looked very different to ten minuets' ago. Part of Harry wanted to go after him. He looked so downtrodden – but most of him just wanted to run away, back up to the castle, to bury his head under the pillow and pretend nothing was happening, none of it. Cho's face had suddenly lost its shine and was dimmed by Cedric's, but that wasn't right. The damn Pretty Boy was messing everything up again …

Harry turned around, away from the lake, and made a beeline back towards the castle. He was hoping to go to bed, go somewhere where he could really think, figure out why Cedric's face seemed to be embossed inside his eyelids … maybe Cedric was playing with him, for a wild minute he imagined researching curses with Hermione, in books called When Bad People Make You Like Them.

_Like_, the world swirled around in his brain. Cedric _liked_ him. He couldn't understand why that made happiness spread through him.

Just outside the castle he found Ron. He wanted to duck inside, as much as he liked Ron, he was the last person he wanted to see now. He wanted to be in bed, with the curtains drawn around him, to think.

"Harry, Harry!" Ron said breathlessly.

Harry stopped walking, and gave Ron a faint smile.

"I was walking, in the bushes, and I overheard … I didn't meant to, but Hagrid's a half-giant, Harry!"

" A half-giant?" Harry couldn't figure out what made this important. He began to walk inside the castle, Ron talking in urgent whispers.

"I was in the bushes … hiding from Snape, when I heard Hagrid talking to Madame Maxime. He let slip that he's a half-giant, said she must be too, she got dead offended…"

"But what's wrong with being a half-giant?" Harry asked.

He could tell from Ron's expression that this was obvious to most wizards. "Well, giants, they're not … very nice."

"Oh," Harry said. "Fairy lights," he told the Fat Lady.

"I'm going to bed," he told Ron. Any thoughts about Hagrid had completely disappeared under the burden of knowledge about Cedric. He wanted to be alone, in the dark, to see it clearly.

"I'm really tired, after the dancing, I'll – you should tell Hermione this," he said.

"But you didn't dance at all! Parvati did it for you. I was watching!"

But, nearly tripping over his bottle green robes, he climbed towards the dormitory, deaf to Ron's protests.

(ii)

Cedric lay in his four-poster, the curtains half open. He could see Zacharias sleeping in the bed next to him, lying face forward, his arms spread out so far they reached over the sides. He was snoring quietly. Cedric rolled over, staring at the cheerful yellow ceiling above him.

He still felt embarrassed. He was sure Harry would hate him now, maybe tell all the Gryffindors that he was a faggot, he didn't think anything good could come out of this. How could he be so stupid … but then he remembered Harry's eyes, his determined expression as he struggled on the broomstick, his eager face as he talked about Quidditch.

He got up and went back downstairs into the common room. Some "support Cedric Diggory" badges twinkled in the darkness. He sat down in front of the embers of the fire. He thought about filling his brain with ways to breathe under water again, but he was too tired. He just wanted to sleep. He knew he would be full of a tense, worried feeling until he saw or did not see Harry the next evening. He sighed, and traced a picture of a broomstick in the dust.

Harry was equally sleepless. His curtains were pulled tight around his fore-poster; they were so thick that they left him in almost total darkness. He could just about make out the shape of his fingers as he waved them in front of his face. They looked twice as thick as usual.

What had he done? He conjured up images of Cedric – pretty boy –but now his dark grey eyes seemed to bore inside Harry's head, there was something about him, he found himself examining his memories of Cedric, his graceful flying that time in Quidditch, his worried, hopeful face this evening. Harry tried to replace them with his standard image of Cho, but it had gone foggy round the edges, it kept on being replaced with Cedric.

Did he want to meet him tomorrow? No, no, of course he didn't, Harry told himself, rolling over in the dark, this was just another thing he had to worry about, that Cedric might be looking at his arse. But when he thought about it again he realised that yes, yes, he did want to go, he was nervous, but excited too.

I'll just get him to help me with my egg, Harry decided. He doesn't need to do more than that. We can have a chat. I'll tell him there's no hope of me liking him, I can ask out Cho again now… This decided, Harry tried to fall asleep, but the pictures of Cedric, suddenly appearing in bright colour, were unavoidable. He slept badly, but all his dreams focused endlessly on Cedric.

(iii)

Boxing day, though punctuated by many snowball fights, seemed endless to Harry. He had fidgeted so often that Hermione snapped, "what's wrong with you?" more than once, although her and Ron's attention was very much taken up by bickering with each other. Harry had enjoyed the snowball fights, until a well-placed snowball by Fred had knocked his glasses off and he's spend a lot of time crawling around in the cold snow, trying to find them.

Now he was heartily glad that it was finally ten minuets to one. He tried to tell himself he was just nervous about the egg, but the endless film of Cedric his mind insisted on playing tried to tell him otherwise.

He was sneaking out between the curtains, trying to remain as silent as possible. He'd decided not to bring his invisibility cloak, lest Cedric see it, which meant being very still and quiet. He had the Marauder's map hidden in his pyjama pocket. Neville stirred as his foot creaked on the floor, and Harry froze, but then he grunted "mimbletonia!" and fell back to sleep.

Some students were still in the common room, talking quietly, or curled up together in chairs, but they ignored Harry's quiet footsteps. The way down to the entrance hall was blessedly clear, although he saw the Bloody Baron swooping toward him one, and he ducked unsuccessfully behind a wall. The ghost stared at him for a moment, and then continued his effortless glide. Hoping the Bloody Baron wouldn't somehow tell Snape about seeing him, Harry continued to the Entrance Hall.

Cedric was pacing around the hall. He looked delighted when he saw Harry, starting and smiling.

"'Lo," he whispered. "You okay, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry whispered back. He had meant to say something about the egg, but Cedric was smiling and he was having difficulty remembering what it was.

"Come on, let's go to the Prefect's bathroom, we can talk in there," he hissed, and grabbed Harry's arm, turning him back in the direction of the stairs.

Harry followed him a stealthily as he could, although for some reason his heart was pumping loudly, which was very distracting.

After a roundabout walk along many staircases, Cedric stopped in front of a painting. "Pine fresh," he whispered, and it swung open.

He climbed in to the exposed hole, and reached out a hand to help Harry in. Harry didn't take it, but hauled himself up. Cedric stepped away to allow him space. Harry almost gasped at the room. The bath was about the size of a swimming pool, and had many golden taps. A mermaid snored quietly in a picture.

"It would be worth becoming a prefect just to use this bathroom!" Harry said, awestruck.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Cedric said, smiling.

"You bet it is! What do these taps do?" Harry's nerves were momentarily forgotten as he walked over to them.

"You'd better put the plug in," Cedric said, bending over the bottom. Harry turned on a tap. Water and foam mixed together sprang out. The foam it emitted was so thick it looked like it would hold Harry's weight if he walked on it. Cedric stood beside him, and together they began to turn on all the taps, laughing at the foams like they were friends.

Once the bath was full, Harry was very sharply reminded that they weren't. He stood there, feeling very silly in his pyjamas, not at all willing to take them off. He wondered why he hadn't worn robes. He betted Cedric would think he looked stupid.

Not that he cared what Cedric thought.

"Yeah, so, you put the egg in the water," Cedric said, his voice echoing how Harry felt.

Harry picked up his egg from where he'd dropped when he saw the bath.

"Like this?" he said, holding it over the water like he was about to throw a stone.

"Er, no," Cedric said. "You have to get in with it."

"Oh, right," Harry said. He didn't move.

"I'll turn around," Cedric said finally, after an awkward moment. He turned, and Harry pulled off his pyjamas and leaped into the water in one smooth movement.

"You can look now," Harry said, swimming into a cloud of thick white foam.

Cedric turned, and walked over to the side of the sunken bath, looking down at him. Harry peered back up, and their eyes met. They regarded each other for a few moments, and then Harry said, "You might as well come in, too."

"Okay," Cedric smiled, and Harry swam to the other end of the pool. He had a splash after a moment and turned around. Cedric was swimming awkwardly toward him, the egg clasped in one hand.

There was another awkward looking moment, and then Harry said, "so how about those Tornadoes then?"

Cedric grinned. "They're doing really well, aren't they? I reckon they could win the league."

"Yeah, I know. My friend Ron'll be really disappointed, he's a Cannons supporter."

"They're awful!" Cedric said, and Harry laughed, feeling a bit guilty.

"'Course the Tornadoes used to be awful, too," Cedric said, rolling back in the water.

"Yeah, I never expected them to start doing so well."

"It's Sam Wandsworth, he's an amazing keeper; he's completely changed the team!"

"Fancy him, do you?" said Harry, in a cold voice that wasn't his own. He felt himself turning red as he said it. He wanted to duck under the water.

"No," said Cedric, his face frozen in an odd half-smile, "his ears are like cauldrons." He began to swim away from Harry.

"I know they are," Harry said, softly. Cedric stopped, and turned toward him.

"I've been thinking about what you said," Harry said, in a squeaky voice not like his own either, "and I – I don't hate it."

Cedric laughed. "That's a start," he said.

They lolled in the water for a while, and Harry drifted closer to Cedric.

"So, how long've you known you're … you know…?"

"Gay?" Cedric said.

Harry nodded, which was a funny sensation when floating in water. He almost choked.

Cedric grinned at him, and then said, "oh, ages. Since I was little."

"Do your parents know?" Harry asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah," said Cedric, "my dad likes to pretend it isn't true though."

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"Yeah, well," Cedric gestured vaguely with his hand. "So how about that egg then?"

They spent almost another hour in the water, talking about the egg's secrets, and then Quidditch. They agreed that the Tornadoes had always had potential, but that the Wimborne Wasps might do well this season.

"Bagman was good, but he didn't make the team," Cedric said. "They've always had good players."

"Yeah, and it's just Wandsworth that made the Tornados good. The Wasps usually do well."

"If Wandsworth stops playing so well, they'll definitely win," said Cedric. He got a dreamy look in his eyes. "He's amazing though."

"You do fancy him!" Harry said in amazement.

"No I don't!" said Cedric. "I just think he's a good Quidditch player." Off Harry's look he yelped again "I don't!"

"His ears are like cauldrons," Harry said, laughing.

"I don't!" said Cedric again, but he knew he'd lost the battle.

He swam towards Harry and tickled him. Harry laughed and caught Cedric by the elbows. "You like Cauldron-Ears!" Harry said in a singsong voice.

Cedric lunged at him, and he rolled back in the water. Cedric bent over him, tickling him under his armpits. Harry struggled back, giggling. The rolled in the water for a few moments before Cedric righted them. Panting slightly, they found themselves face to face, balancing lightly on the bottom of the bath. Cedric was holding Harry's upper arms softly.

"You have awful taste!" Harry said, giggling.

"I wouldn't say that," said Cedric.

"Why not?"

"Well, I fancy you, don't I?" Cedric said, smiling.

"Yeah..." Harry suddenly felt horribly aware of how naked he was. He disentangled himself from Cedric, who was now blushing slightly.

"Listen, I'd better go to bed," Harry said.

"Yeah, me too. D'you want to – want to work on breathing underwater?"

"I'd like that," Harry said.

"How about Saturday, in the library, after supper?"

Harry nodded. They climbed out of the bath awkwardly, looking away from each other as they dried themselves on fluffy towels.

In the corridor outside, Cedric touched Harry's shoulder awkwardly. "'Bye then," he whispered.

"'Night," said Harry, smiling in the dark. He crept back to his bedroom. He had difficulty sleeping that night too. He couldn't forget Cedric's face, or the feeling of his arms on his in the bath. Ron grunted in his sleep. Harry smiled to himself, oblivious to the dormitory, only seeing Cedric's face saying that he fancied him.

After all, Harry thought, it was quite normal to like it when someone told you they fancied you.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two - Dreaming 

(i)

Harry was having a nightmare. It wasn't one about Voldemort for once; it was an entirely different sort. He was back in the cupboard under the stairs. It was dark, a thick, velvety darkness, so complete that he couldn't make out the shape of his hands or knees. He felt young, and small, and absolutely hopeless.

The dream collided with memory so perfectly that Harry sometimes woke half way through it, and yet the thoughts continued with impunity. There was nothing he could do. As soon as he felt himself back there, in the cupboard, with the gauze of spider webs against his cheek, he was six years old again, and nothing would stop the images.

He had been in the cupboard for a long time. He could no longer remember why, if there had been a reason. His mouth was dry, his tongue was heavy; he was thirsty enough to no longer notice his hunger. He'd wet himself several hours ago, and his clothes were sticky and cold. He was hunched over on the side of his bed, and there were tears in his eyes, but he was refusing to cry.

The door opened, and Harry was on the floor. He'd never been able to remember, not in these dreams, not in memory, how the door opening and his being on the floor happened simultaneously, but he remembered, clearly, staring up, and seeing Uncle Vernon, framed in the light of the hall.

"Get up, boy," his uncle had shouted, and when Harry tried to cower farther under the bed Uncle Vernon grabbed him round the scruff of the neck.

"Filthy thing, he's pissed himself," a voice said from the other side of Vernon, and Harry hung from his Uncle's hands, shaking and humiliated, with Aunt Marge's eyes on him.

"We'll get it out of him, Vernon," Marge said, and Harry shook, not knowing what she was talking about.

Vernon looked less sure, but said, "yes. For Petunia."

"Something wrong with the bitch, something wrong with the pup," Marge said.

"Nothing that a beating can't cure." Uncle Vernon's moustache quivered, and Harry shook more, not really comprehending what he was hearing.

"Put him down, Vernon," Marge said, and Harry half fell from his Uncle's hands, and crouched on the floor.

Harry woke as his six year old self's feet touched the floor. He stared at Hogwarts ceiling willing himself back there, but he was still six, cold and terrified, and in a cupboard.

He didn't really remember the pain of the blows. He just remembered the terror. The endless, hopeless fear, Uncle Vernon's hands on his shoulders, and Marge's blows, to his face, his ribs. They were trying to stamp something out of him. He was wrong, there was something disgusting about him.

They left him to cower against a wall in the darkness, and he had lain there for what felt like days, shivering, the bruises stinging, and his eyes refusing to close, so they had seemed to seep in all the black, with one tiny nagging voice in his ear, which had whispered that he was bad, that no one would ever love him.

Harry struggled out of the memories, gripping the pillow, staring at the dark curtains. He opened them quickly, and looked around, at the faint light of the night.

It was okay, after that, he reminded himself, no one ever touched you. It was just once, and it didn't really matter. He lay on his back, and stared at the shapes of the other boys. They breathed and snuffled, bringing him back from the recesses of his mind.

It was only once, it didn't count, he repeated to himself again, but one tear coursed down his cheek, and he didn't try to stop it.

(ii)

In another part of the castle, Cedric was having a bad dream, too.

His father stood over him, weeping. "You've ruined us, boy, no one will ever respect us," he sobbed, his head bowed, his hands shaking.

Then his father, Amos, was congratulating him for his triumphs in Quidditch, for his excellent OWLs, telling him what a good son he was, how proud he was. Tears still trickled down his face.

"How could you, Cedric, how could you?" he whispered. Cedric had never seen Amos cry. Not even at his sister's funeral. But this, Cedric's secret, Cedric's shame, reduced him to endless tears.

Cedric hadn't apologised. He turned away, and stood in front of the staircase, not able to bring himself to go up it. Behind him, across the hall, his father wept and raged on.

He woke suddenly, as his dream self was about to abandon the sounds of Amos, to run upstairs, to hide. He crept out to the common room quickly, trying to banish the dreams from his mind.

He sat beside the fire until first light, looking through various books, but only managing to read one or two sentences.

(iii)

The snow was beginning to melt on Saturday morning. Ron looked out at it gloomily.

"It's not fair, I knew I could've won the next snowball fight," he said.

"No one can win those snowball fights, they're too disorganised," Hermione said cheerfully.

"How would you know, you don't play," Ron said.

"I have better things to do than get cold snow down my back."

Hermione was flicking through the 'Daily Prophet'. "There's nothing bad in here today," she said. "Rita Skeeter must be waiting till after New Year."

This thought didn't cheer Harry up at all. He was feeling horribly nervous about meeting Cedric that night. He wanted to see him again, very little could drive the image of Cedric laughing in the water from his mind, but he wasn't sure what was going to happen, or even what he wanted to happen.

But thinking, _he likes me, _tended to turn Harry's cheeks pink with pleasure. And the thought of meeting him tonight sent as much warmth as it did fear through his veins.

"Want to play Quidditch, Ron?" Harry asked, needing something to distract himself.

Ron nodded, and they rounded up Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Seamus Finnegan and, rather reluctantly, Ginny. The game was as disorganised as their snowball fights and lasted most of the day.

Harry didn't manage to eat very much supper, but instead played with his stuffing and carrots.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, watching him.

"I'm worried about Hagrid," she said after a moment. "After what Madame Maxime did. I think we should go and talk to him this evening."

Harry shook his head, "I can't, I'm – I'm working on my clue."

"Oh, excellent, Harry, how's it going, d'you want some help?" she gushed immediately.

"It's okay, no, I don't need help," he said, and pushed away his plates, escaping upstairs before she could ask any more questions.

He was earlier than Cedric had suggested, and he went behind some of the smaller shelves, grabbing any books that looked likely.

When he came to the table, Cedric was standing there, some chocolate in his hand.

"You rushed out of the Great Hall," he said, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Harry said. "Hermione was just asking too many questions, that's all."

Cedric looked a little perplexed, but nodded. He held up the chocolate. "I brought you some desert," he said, and looked around, "just don't let Madame Pince see."

"Thanks," Harry said, breaking off a piece under the table. "D'you want some?"

Cedric took a chunk. Madame Pince was busily writing down a list of student's names that had damaged books they had borrowed from her. It was the sort of activity that kept her engrossed for a long time.

"Not the most romantic choice of places, I know," Cedric said. "First the bath and now the library."

"Well, at least it means I'm not going to fail miserably when it comes to my clue."

"You were never going to fail miserably," Cedric said.

"Oh no?"

"That time with the dragon – that was an amazing bit of flying. I'm supposed to be a good Quidditch player, and I didn't even _think _of it."

"I got help," said Harry. "And now I'm getting help from you."

"I got help with the egg, too," Cedric said. "And we can both figure out how to breathe underwater."

"It can't be _that_ hard. I always that once I could fly everything else would be dead easy."

Cedric burst out laughing, "you're such a muggle," he said.

Harry punched him playfully, and grinned.

They looked down at the books again, but Madame Pince was upon them. "Out, out, out!" she said, "My library is no place for social meetings."

As they staggered outside, Harry carefully hid the chocolate, not to incur her wrath any farther.

"Where shall we go now?" Cedric asked, scuffing his feet on the floor.

Harry shrugged, "I'd say outside, but it's chilly."

"The prefects' bathroom again?" Cedric suggested. "It's not very nice, but-"

"It _is_ nice," Harry said, "and it's the only place I can think of to go."

Cedric nodded, "we'll find a nice secret passage some time," he said.

They made their way back up to the painting, and Cedric muttered the password to it. The mermaid in the painting was awake now, and she flashed her tail at Harry and Cedric.

"Let's hope none of the prefects wants a bath," Harry said.

Cedric nodded, "most of them don't come in here. Using the bathrooms in the dormitories is easier."

"But it's so beautiful here," Harry said.

In the watery evening light it looked even better than the day before. The taps around the sunken bath glinted, and the mermaid chuckled at them, the ceiling was high and beautifully adorned. Tall, stained-glass windows ran along one wall. They cast brightly coloured lights onto the bath.

"I know, it is," Cedric said, "I come here all the time."

Cedric sat down on a window seat, leaning back against the bright glass, which depicted a brilliant green dragon.

Harry sat down beside him, feeling a little awkward. A sudden thought of Cedric kissing him struck him, and he felt confused and excited. To hide this he bent over his chocolate.

"Do you want some more?" he asked, and Cedric nodded. They munched for a moment.

They talked about the other champions for a while. "I don't like Krum," Cedric said. "He's a good Quidditch player, but I don't trust him."

"He seems okay," Harry said, "I'm not sure. My friend, Hermione, went to the ball with him."

"I saw," said Cedric. "Did you mind?"

"Not really," said Harry. "She seems to like him."

"I don't trust Durmstrang, I expect them to play dirty," Cedric said.

Harry shrugged. "I just don't want to fail miserably at my tasks, I'm not too fussed otherwise."

"So the Hogwart's trophy rests on my shoulders, does it?" Cedric said.

"Well, you're helping me, so there's an off-chance I could win," Harry said.

Cedric smiled, and yawned hugely.

"Tired?"

"Yeah," said Cedric, "I didn't sleep very well last night."

Harry nodded, "Neither did I."

They sat still for a moment, and Harry noticed that the patches of light had faded to darkness. The windowpanes were cold.

"Nightmares?" Cedric asked.

Harry shrugged. "Sort of."

"Me too," Cedric said.

They sat in silence for another little while, and then Cedric sighed and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry was startled by the sudden weight of it, the feeling of his hair pressed against his neck. Cedric yawned, and Harry felt it rather than saw it.

"What were they about?" Cedric said.

Harry paused. "The Dursleys," he said, "the muggles I used to live with."

"Where they – where they not nice?" Cedric asked, shifting his position slightly.

"They didn't like me much," Harry said, after a moment.

Cedric slung one arm around Harry's neck, and Harry found himself leaning into Cedric, and Cedric half resting upon him. He felt Cedric nose against his neck, and then Cedric's mouth, which said, "how could anyone not like _you_?"

Harry lost the power of thought for a moment, and then he shifted so that he was closer to Cedric. "My family likes me too much," Cedric said.

Harry laughed, "that's not much of a complaint."

"It is," said Cedric, "I'm never going to live up to who they think I am. I'm going to disappoint them. I already have."

Harry bit back his nerves and cuddled against Cedric. "How did you disappoint them?"

"By being gay," Cedric said.

"I'm lucky, then," Harry said. "I don't have anyone to disappoint."

Cedric turned his face against Harry's neck again. "You'd be surprised," he said.

They sat like that for a while longer, nestled together, until it was late enough for nobody to be awake in their common rooms. Until their bodies started to grow numb, and fit into each other's shape. Then they disentangled, and drifted off to bed.

"See you tomorrow?" Cedric asked.

"After supper, the entrance hall," Harry said.

He was ready to sleep, and think about Cedric's warm form beside him, holding him, listen to the part of his brain, which kept saying, over and over, in a slightly squeaky voice, 'oh yes, oh yes'.

But Ron and Hermione were awake in the common room, talking beside the fire.

"Where _were_ you?" Hermione demanded. "You said you were researching."

"I was," said Harry defiantly.

"You weren't in the library," said Ron.

"It wasn't that kind of research," said Harry. "We'll need that later."

"You've figured out the clue?" Hermione breathed.

"I have to know how to breathe underwater," Harry said.

"We'll work it out," said Ron.

"We went to Hagrid's hut," Hermione told him.

"I reckon he's really upset about Madame Maxime," Ron said.

"Oh," said Harry.

"Yes, anyway…" Hermione began.

"I'm going to bed," Harry said. He could feel Ron and Hermione exchanging looks behind his back.

Ron came into the dormitory shortly after. He looked at Harry oddly.

"What were you really doing, mate?" he asked.

"What do you think of Sam Wandsworth, then?" Harry asked.

"What about him?" Ron said.

"I reckon he's quite good looking, despite the ears," Harry said, and rolled over, so Ron couldn't see his face.

If Ron was going to ask another question he was silenced by both Dean Thomas and Seamus, who both groaned that they needed sleep.

(iv)

Harry and Cedric walked into the entrance hall almost simultaneously the next evening.

Cedric smiled at him, and Harry found himself grinning broadly back, and leading them both out into the evening.

"It's cold," said Cedric, but it wasn't a complaint.

Harry's hand, without any direction from Harry, grabbed Cedric's.

Cedric held it, and smiled again. "You okay, Harry?"

Harry felt like shaking his head. No, he wasn't okay, not okay at all.

They crunched across the slush together. It soaked through Harry's old trainers and wet his feet. When the Durmstrang ship came into view, Cedric leaned towards Harry, and Harry reached up and kissed him.

They stood still for a moment, arms wrapped around each other, chapped lips together.

Then they continued walking aimlessly, through the dark, cold snow. If it weren't for the solid feel of Cedric's hand in his, Harry would have thought he was dreaming.

Disclaimer: This is not mine. JK Rowling owns all. I'm just taking photos.

Also, many, many thanks to my reviewers. Feedback is what keeps me writing.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – Without Impunity 

(i)

"What _have_ you been up to lately? Mate?" Ron asked him again.

Harry shrugged. He didn't know what to say. They were doing Herbology, on the first Monday of the winter term. They were supposed to be flattening the leaves of a Monraton between thin pieces of slate, which was a lot easier said then done, because the leaves curled into a ball whenever they were startled.

Hermione and Neville, who were working on the next plant, were doing much better, since they were both carefully stroking the plant's stem to keep it calm.

"Yes, Harry, this is very mysterious," Hermione said. "I don't know why you're lying to us."

"I'm not!" Harry said hotly, touching a leaf so suddenly that it curled tight around his finger.

Neville leant over and carefully extricated him.

"Then where have you been?" Ron said.

"You're definitely not researching, you're never in the library," Hermione said. "If you don't tell me soon, I'm going to stop helping you with your task!"

"Thanks Neville," Harry said, as Neville carefully flattened the leaf he had saved Harry from.

Hermione looked at him anxiously. "You're not doing something stupid, are you?"

"Maybe he's with Cho!" Ron said, suddenly, chortling.

Harry wondered if this excuse might work.

"She's still with Diggory as far as I know," said Hermione.

"Stupid pretty boy," said Ron vaguely. They were both still looking at Harry expectantly.

"I'll tell you … later," he said eventually, lowering his voice like there was a big secret, "not _here_."

(ii)

He studiously avoided Ron and Hermione that day. He talked to them during the classes, but only made vague comments about the students and the teachers. As soon as lessons were over, and they would be in most respects alone in the Great Hall, he disappeared upstairs on a pretext, and went to the Prefect's bathroom. It was always deserted, and where he and Cedric met most often.

His stomach gurgled, but he wasn't willing to go down to the Hall. He wanted to see Cedric, and then he thought he would know what to do. He couldn't stop worrying about Ron and Hermione. Cedric seemed to take hours to come. He paced the room nervously, trying to ignore the giggling mermaid, and one of the taps, which was dripping sweet-smelling bubbles the size of pumpkins.

When Cedric eventually appeared he had started wrestling with the tap, trying to make it stop. There were bubbles bouncing alone the edge of the bath.

"I didn't see you at dinner," said Cedric.

"Well it's not like we generally make moon-eyes at each other across the Ravenclaw table," Harry snapped.

"You okay?" Cedric asked.

Harry's stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly.

"No," he said, and sat down on the edge of the bath, dangling his muddy shoes onto the scrupulously clean bottom.

Cedric waited. "There's still food down there," he said.

"I can go to the kitchens," Harry said shortly.

They were silent for a few more moments, scowling in opposite directions. Cedric relented.

"What's wrong, then?" he asked.

"Ron and Hermione want to know what I've been doing lately."

"Ah," said Cedric.

"Well? What should I do?"

"I told you," said Cedric. "That you were going to disappoint people."

"No you didn't! You just said _you_ disappointed people! It doesn't mean _I_ will! I'm not even gay!"

"You're not gay?" Cedric said, mildly.

"NO!" Harry shouted. The mermaid squealed.

"What are you, then?" he asked.

"I'm – I'm," Harry floundered, the anger leaving his system as suddenly as it had come. He didn't know whom, or what, he was angry with, but he knew it wasn't Cedric

"I'm hungry!" he said after a moment.

Cedric grinned. Harry stood up and shook his head, his hair flying into his face. He wondered why being with Cedric so often managed to make him feel thoroughly stupid.

"Will we go and scavenge some food for you?" Cedric asked.

Harry nodded. He'd barely eaten lunch; he'd felt nervous and worried all day. They walked down to the kitchen together, wordlessly taking a long route through corridors full of classrooms, to avoid meeting anyone.

"Have you been thinking about the second task?" Harry asked. Now that term had started, February felt extremely close.

"Yes, but less than I should," Cedric said.

Harry nodded. "I've looked through books, and no one even mentions breathing underwater."

"It's surprisingly unpopular," Cedric agreed.

They reached the kitchens, and Cedric tickled the pear.

"I thought no one knew about the kitchens," Harry said.

"All the Hufflepuffs do," Cedric said. "It's right beside our common room."

"That should make midnight snacking easy."

"Almost too easy."

"No wonder the more portly people are in Hufflepuff," Harry said.

"It's purely architectural reasons," said Cedric. "If we were at the top of the building, we'd be as slim as the Ravenclaws."

"The sorting hat probably sorts you by waistline alone," Harry said.

"Do you want food or not?" Cedric said, pushing open the door.

After lots of food and many squeaky bows had been plied on them, Harry and Cedric walked back towards the Charms corridor, Harry munching ham sandwiches; his pockets full of iced buns. Cedric had refused everything.

"How can you?" Harry asked. "It looks so delicious."

"I've got to keep my school-boy figure," Cedric said.

Harry laughed. "And I've been defending you when people call you a pretty boy!"

Cedric feigned an aghast expression. "They call me a pretty boy? Why ever should they?"

Harry grinned and traced Cedric's cheek. "Because you're so pretty?"

"That would explain it." He smiled and leant down to Harry.

"Don't kiss me, I'm eating!" Harry said, giggling against his mouth.

"What should I tell them?" Harry asked again, as they wandered farther down the corridor.

"You can tell them the truth, or you can lie," Cedric said.

Harry sighed. "I don't want to lie." But he didn't even know what he was lying about. He liked Cedric. He liked everything about him, from his grey eyes to his worried words about his father. He liked kissing him. But he didn't understand how to define what he felt.

"Then don't," Cedric said.

"They think you're going out with Cho," Harry said.

"I only went with her to the ball."

"I know," Harry said. He sighed, and crumpled the napkin that had held his sandwich. "I have homework," he said, slightly morosely.

Cedric nodded. "Don't we all."

They began to walk more purposefully downstairs. They usually went their separate ways in a corridor beside the Great Hall.

"What are you going to tell them?" Cedric said.

Nothing had become any clearer to Harry. He shrugged.

"I don't mind," Cedric said. He put his hands on Harry's shoulders, and Harry's body responded, leaning up into him. They kissed for longer than was wise in the corridor, bodies pressed together, wriggling against each other. Cedric pushed Harry into the wall, and Harry's tongue nervously reached out, and Cedric accepted it.

"That is _not _research," a voice, a familiar, bossy voice, said. Their lips came apart. Cedric didn't step aside, and Harry, heart pounding, was left staring at his chest. He wanted to bury his head in Cedric's black robes, and disappear.

"Hermione?" Harry squeaked eventually. Cedric stepped away from him. His face was uncharacteristically red.

"This corridor is beside the library," she said slowly. "Which is a silly place to have mysterious liaisons."

"I suppose it is," Cedric said.

"I didn't think," said Harry.

"Obviously," said Hermione, suddenly sounding very much like Professor McGonagall.

"I'd better go," Cedric said.

Harry nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, trying to keep his voice defiant.

"Are you gay?" asked Hermione, looking at him thoughtfully.

"I don't know," said Harry.

"I understand why you didn't want to tell me," she said. "Let's go to the library."

She looked so calm that Harry felt a sudden rush of affection for her. His heart still hadn't slowed. He found himself wondering wildly if she was going to produce a book called 'Homosexuality for 20th Century Wizards', or something along those lines.

They sat at a desk far away from Madame Pince.

"You're lucky Ron didn't come with me," Hermione said.

Harry nodded.

"What are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know," Harry said.

"Do you like Cedric?"

"A lot more than Cho," Harry said after a time.

"Okay," Hermione said. She picked up a large, mouldy book. "You should probably write that essay on 'The Uses of Monratons' for Professor Sprout. I've done it. I'll research breathing underwater."

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling extremely confused. Hermione handed him a quill.

"Want an iced bun?" Harry asked.

"I was wondering why you weren't at dinner," she said, taking one from him.

"I don't know how I'm going to do this task," Harry said, biting into a bun. "Honestly, Hermione, I can't even _swim_."

"We'll figure it out," Hermione said, not very encouragingly, and turned another page.

They sat in silence for a while, Harry scratching out a few words about Monratons.

"I never thought you were gay," Hermione said.

"Neither did I," said Harry. Hermione kept reading, but Harry's pen was motionless as he replayed the conversation. So was he gay? Did he fancy boys?

"I'm not gay," Harry said slowly. "I just like Cedric."

Hermione nodded. "What are you going to tell Ron?"

"He hates Cedric," Harry said.

"He hates Viktor," Hermione said.

Harry smiled at her. He didn't like thinking that he was hiding something from Ron, however. It didn't feel normal. But he couldn't imagine telling Ron about Cedric. Part of him wished Hermione didn't know. He felt like he and Cedric's time was separate form everything else. Like nothing needed to be connected to them.

"Do you think my essay is long enough?" Harry asked.

Hermione picked it up. "It's only three paragraphs!" she said. She scanned it and said, "The main use of Monraton leaves is to drug sleeps, not in 'breathing difficulties'," she said, handing it back.

Harry scratched out the offending lines. "I'm going to bed, I think," he said after a few more minuets' work.

They walked back up to the common room, and Harry's heart pounded in his chest. Seeing Ron worried him. However, Ron was by the fire, playing exploding snap with Dean Thomas and barely looked up when he saw them.

"Library," said Hermione, to an unasked question, and pulled another book from her bag.

"Don't you ever read novels?" Ginny asked, sitting beside her.

"I like facts," Hermione said.

"But why do you care how many claws a kneazle has on its left foot?" she asked.

Harry, standing by the stairs leading up to his dormitory, stared at them all for a moment. They were all engaged in each other, talking, arguing, the fire burning merrily as cards exploded or someone crumpled their homework angrily. He didn't feel like they had anything to do with him. He felt like he was completely alone; he could do anything with impunity.

(iii)

Classes, conversations, The Tournament – it all became full of Cedric. Everything seemed to come back to him.

Harry sat in Charms, ignoring the hubbub as people tried to charm paint into flashing different colours, and scribbled a picture of a firebolt on a scrap of parchment. It looked like a twig with sticks attached, and he crumpled it up. Firebolts had a grace and beauty to them. He'd promised Cedric to let him try his firebolt that evening, and he thought Cedric would look excellent on it.

Hermione, who had mastered this charm in first year, and had finished helping Ron make a daub of blue paint twinkle, lent over his shoulder.

"Have you worked it out?" she asked.

Harry gestured to a smear of red paint in front of him, which gave off a faint glow when held up to the light.

"You could do better than that," she said.

Harry shrugged.

"You've hardly concentrated at all lately," Hermione said. "You're thinking about Cedric."

Harry looked nervously at Ron, but he was talking to Parvati Patil and gesticulating wildly.

"I haven't been doing any worse than usual," Harry said. "I'm nervous about the task."

February was now fast approaching.

"Well, I'm glad you're discovering you're sexuality, but I don't see why your work should suffer because of it," Hermione said. "I'm working as hard as ever, and I have Viktor."

"We're not all you, Hermione," Harry said testily, and thrust his wand and his paint. It suddenly shone so brightly that it lit up the area surrounding his desk.

"A little bit too enthusiastic there, Potter," Professor Flitwick said cheerfully, hurrying over.

When he was gone, Hermione sighed and said, "we'll find something soon. Has Cedric got anything?"

"He mentioned some charm or other," Harry said. "But I think it's advanced magic. He wasn't even sure _he_ could do it."

"Tell him to let me know," Hermione said.

"Maybe you too should research together some time," Harry said, "you both really like it."

Hermione smiled. "Tonight?"

"Nah, we're going flying."

"Shouldn't you concentrate on your task?"

"Who's going flying?" Ron asked, suddenly.

"I am," Harry said.

"Can I come?"

"Have you got a broom?" Harry asked, surprising himself with his curt tone.

"I can use one of the school ones."

"You'll slow me down," Harry said.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Why d'you need to be fast? There's no Quidditch."

"Well, I suppose you can come," Harry said, wondering wildly what he was going to do.

"Not if you don't want me to," Ron said hotly.

"Really, Ron, he needs to fly to relax for the task. Don't start," Hermione said.

Ron looked murderously at them both, and then turned around. Harry knew the only way to save the situation was to ask Ron to play Quidditch with him, but, somehow, he wanted to see Cedric more.

"You have to tell him soon," Hermione said. "I don't like lying to him."

Harry nodded. "Thanks for the save," he said.

"Research tomorrow," she said.

"Yeah," said Harry. He looked at Ron's back, watched as he talked to Seamus. Their friendship had suffered as soon as he started seeing Cedric. He didn't know how to explain his constant disappearances to Ron, and Ron was consequently seeping into the same space of confusion and jealousy as before the first task.

"I didn't ask for this," Harry said to the crumpled paper on his desk. It didn't have a useful response.

**Feedback**: Many, many thanks to all the kind people who have reviewed me. Sorry I took so long to update, I'll try to be quicker next time! Thanks again, and remember reviews mean happy writer, happy writer means more chapters!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four – Nooks and Crannies **

(i)

He woke, head pounding, adrenaline rushing through his veins. It was only when he sat up, arms reaching out, to fight, or flee, that he realised he was hard against his stomach, and he remembered his dream.

He lay back down, and closed his eyes, and tried to ignore the throb in his crotch. Harry had been there. They were under water, in the lake, Harry's face blue from lack of oxygen, his ghostly hands reaching for Cedric as he breathed out bubbles.

"Harry … " Cedric had begun, but he found he was choking on water, drowning, as Harry, blue, cold Harry reached out his icy hands and cupped Cedric's cock.

Pervert, Cedric thought, alone in the dark, listening to Zacharias snore. That shouldn't turn me on. I shouldn't dream about stuff like that. He rolled onto his stomach, the throbbing in his penis slowly easing as he thought, shamefully, maybe my father is right; maybe I am just a pervert.

"I've brought shame upon my whole family," he whispered to himself, trying out his father's words. His voice echoed in the dark. As soon as he'd spoken, he knew he'd said it too loudly. He heard some of the other boys stirring.

"It's too early," someone groaned. Cedric stayed perfectly still. He knew the voice, it was a loud boy called Alain, who slept very lightly.

The noise subsided, and Cedric closed his eyes. He couldn't get back to sleep. All he could see were Harry's blue, dead hands, reaching out to touch the places where he so badly wanted to be touched.

Eventually he got out of bed, and padded out of the dormitory.

(ii)

"I can't sleep," Harry said to Ron, who was staring at the ceiling in the bad next to his. Harry had opened his hangings to look for some diversion, and had seen Ron.

Ron rolled over, away from him, "neither can I," he said, after a moment.

"Why not?"

"I dunno," Ron said.

"The task's in almost two weeks. And I still don't know anything," Harry said. He glanced at his watch; it was five past two.

"Well, with all the time you spend with Hermione, I don't see how you can't know," Ron said.

"That's just it, if she can't find anything, what's the hope for me?"

Ron grunted. Harry wanted to shake him, and ask him what was the matter with him, but he didn't.

He rolled out of bed, and pulled on his glasses. "I'm going to the library," he said. Ron shrugged though the bedclothes.

Harry sighed, and crept out between the beds in the circular room. Crookshanks and a black cat were curled together in a chair by the smouldering ashes in the grate. A fifth year student was leafing, panic-stricken, through some notes, and talking earnestly to another girl. Harry pulled on the invisibility cloak and scrambled through the portrait hole.

He walked blindly down the corridor. He was filled with nerves. He imagined failing the next task, standing and shivering at the edge of the water and knowing absolutely nothing. He saw Ron, turned away from him, the blankets half way up the curve of his back, his face obscured, his voice angry.

He bumped into something solid, and was ready to freeze or hide, his heart pounding, but when he looked up, he saw Cedric where he expected too see Snape.

Harry pulled off the cloak, and smiled at Cedric, who was looking around apprehensively. He lunged forward and hugged Cedric, pressing his face into his chest. He breathed in the familiar smell of him, nuzzling at his chest. Cedric backed away after a moment, however, and smiled at Harry.

"Why are you up?"

"I dunno," Harry said. "Couldn't sleep. I thought I'd go to the library, research, or something."

"Me too," Cedric said. They stood there looking at each other.

Then Cedric put his hand on the back of Harry's head and tilted his face upwards. He kissed Harry's forehead, feather light, and then on his jawbone. He was teasing the skin of Harry's neck with his tongue, when both boys heard the sound of Snape's light tread.

Cedric gaped, looking around wildly, as if expecting some form of escape, but Harry dragged him into an alcove behind a statue which was muttering in its' sleep and draped the cloak over both of them.

They were very close under here, forced to wrap their arms around each other, Cedric ducking his head over Harry's. Snape's footsteps were very light, and it was almost hard to tell when he got close to them. Harry held his breath, and Snape stopped beside the statue, apparently listening.

Harry knew it would be terrible for Snape to find him out-of-bounds again in such a short time, for he'd already thought he'd seen him after he'd made his way back from a late conversation with Cedric in the bathroom. Professor Moody had unfortunately taken the Marauder's map from him, and that made these nighttime wanderings even more difficult.

Snape was peering interestedly at the statue, and Cedric held Harry more tightly. Harry could feel Cedric's heart thumping in his chest.

"Not the lights!" the statue gasped in its sleep.

Snape looked at it for a moment. Then he turned and whisked back along the corridor.

"He never bloody sleeps!" Harry whispered.

"Nah, he's a bat," Cedric said.

"Bats sleep…" Harry began, but Cedric was kissing him again.

Enclosed behind the statue and the invisibility cloak, they began to explore each other's mouths again, Cedric kissing Harry's neck and jaw line, licking him, tasting, reminding himself of the whole taste of Harry as Harry whimpered and pressed himself again the other body.

Harry suddenly felt Cedric's erection pressing against the sliver of skin between his stomach and his crotch. He wanted to grind up into, the feeling of it was making his knees go weak, but he found himself backing away slightly, pressing his body against the wall.

Cedric panted loudly, rasping into the dark his mouth still centimetres from Harry's.

He cupped Harry's chin with one hand, nervously. "You ok?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"I'm sorry. It's…"

"No," Harry said quickly. "I… I don't mind."

One of his long, seeker fingers stroked Harry's neck. "It doesn't mean we have to do anything about it."

"I know," Harry said. "I dunno. I think I want to … do something."

Cedric smiled and rested his forehead against Harry's.

"Now?"

"Well, not here," Harry said, although here they were as safe as anywhere.

Cedric peered around the statue, and saw Mrs Norris' ghostly eyes looking at them. It was hard to tell if invisibility cloaks worked on cats, she could certainly smell them.

"Why do they all have to come along this corridor?" Harry muttered.

Cedric sighed.

"We'd better go back. Without that map of yours…"

"I know," Harry said. He greatly begrudged Moody this aid in seeing Cedric.

"Tomorrow?" Cedric asked.

Harry nodded, and kissed him once, and then again, and then they were pressed together behind the statue until Cedric pulled away, moaning.

Harry watched him walking awkwardly back along the corridor, and grinned at the sight of him.

Ron seemed to be asleep when Harry got back, and Harry stared at the ceiling, his mind, once obsessed with the tournament, now entirely taken over by Cedric. He thought about Cedric's hardness, pressing into him, and little shivers ran up his spine.

He rolled over angrily in the bed. He knew how a girl and boy had sex – had found out from a video they'd showed him in primary school. He'd never thought about it much before then. The Dursleys' "don't ask questions" policy had never made him feel much like asking anyone anything, had never made him question more than he absolutely had to question. But now he realised his education was woefully lacking. He didn't really have any idea how two boys had sex.

He wondered, blushingly, what he should do. Ask Cedric? He thought about Cedric and his body pressed up against his in the corridor. He imagined himself and Cedric sandwiched together, their skin bare. He imagined their bodies touching, every part of them stuck together. It made him feel warm all over.

(iii)

Cedric sat in the library, across from Harry and Hermione. They were all together, under the pretext of searching for spells for the task, although Cedric thought that Hermione seemed a lot more interested in figuring out whether he was suitable for Harry.

He wasn't sure he liked sitting here with both of them. Talking to two fourth years in public was going to get him noticed, particularly since one of them was the other champion. He liked being alone with Harry, in their quiet world, where he didn't need to pretend that everyone was his friend, where he didn't have to try quite so hard.

Smiling at Hermione was a strain, listening to her ideas, thought they were good, was a strain. He just wanted to be alone with Harry, where he could relax, or failing that, just be alone.

He mentally shook himself, trying to snap out of it. This is Harry's friend, he reminded himself. When he glanced at Harry he realised that he looked nervous too.

"I've been looking into charms, mostly, but anything remotely to do with water is very advanced, I don't know if Harry could do it, everything water-related is at NEWT level, it's supposed to be really difficult to charm water…"

"Yes, it is," Cedric said, "even small amounts, and this is the _lake_."

Hermione nodded, "that's why I've been trying to go around that, I've concentrated on charms about air or breathing."

Cedric was impressed. "Have you found anything?"

"Not much," Hermione said. "Something called a bubble-head charm, but I'm not sure it would take a sustained amount of time in water."

"Let me see it," Cedric said. Hermione pushed the book over to him, and he peered down at it. He could feel Harry's food underneath the small table, pressed against his. It was distracting.

After another half an hour of study, Hermione pleaded homework.

"You should come too," she said, looking meaningfully at Harry. "Professor McGonagall set us sixteen inches, and I'm not even _close_."

"I haven't even begun," Harry said gloomily.

Cedric walked beside him out of the library, and touched his shoulder as the three stood in the dark corridor.

"I'll meet you up there," Harry said, finding his voice coming out croaky.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "All right."

"It was nice meeting you," Cedric said.

Hermione smiled and nodded her head.

As soon as she was out of sight, Cedric gave Harry a chaste kiss.

"Bathroom?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, but withdrew the cloak.

"I really do have work," he said, gloomily.

They leant into an alcove between a suit of armour and a window, which wasn't large enough to hide in, but people would be unlikely to bump into their invisible selves. A castle as old as Hogwarts could boast a lot of useful nooks.

Harry smiled up as Cedric's face in the enclosed warmth of the cloak. His grey eyes were shining.

"You're so beautiful," Harry found himself whispering, and then flushed all over, not knowing how he could have said something so _stupid_.

Cedric only chuckled. "Handsome, Harry, I'm handsome," he said.

After a horribly brief few minutes, Harry, still ensconced in the invisibility cloak, made his way back to the common room.

As soon as he was inside, Ron came over, eyes glittering. "Where _were_ you?" he asked.

"The library," Harry said, "something wrong?"

"So you weren't with Hermione?"

"Yeah, I was, we were in the library. Researching. For my task."

"Researching? So you haven't just been kissing?" Ron said, his ears turning red.

"I –er – what?" Harry said gaping.

"Oh, c'mon, you've clearly been kissing someone. I suppose I should have guessed," Ron said.

"Guessed what – exactly?"

"That you're with Hermione."

Harry couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing. It was just too ridiculous. After he'd been so worried about Ron finding out about Cedric, he thought he was with Hermione.

"It's not funny," Ron said, icily.

"Hermione," Harry called, across the common room, "are we going out?"

She looked at him blankly. "What?"

"See?" Harry said to Ron.

"I don't see why you can't just tell me the truth!" Ron shouted.

"Me and Hermione aren't going out," Harry said, trying to sound calm as his heart pumped. Ron's last remark had stung.

"What are you doing then? Sneaking off all the time?"

Hermione was suddenly standing behind Ron, "I think you should tell him," she said. "He's you're best friend."

I'm gay, the words sprang up into Harry's mind, suddenly, unwanted, and he almost giggled at them.

"Harry?" Ron said. His eyes were still fiery.

"Cedric fancies Sam," Harry found himself saying, his heart thumping.

Ron and Hermione both stared at him. "What?" Ron said.

Hermione spoke for him. "He's going out with Cedric Diggory."

"Diggory? Diggory? The pretty boy?"

Harry turned around from them both, and stormed upstairs. He hated Ron's face, with its jealous expression. He hated Hermione for telling his secret. It was his to tell.

It's not my fault, he thought, none of this is my fault. I didn't ask for all this trouble, all these complications. He lolled back on his bed.

"I'm gay," he said, softly, to the hangings. "I'm gay," he said more loudly, to Neville's empty bed.

Am I gay? Am I really? He wondered. "Harry is a faggot," had been one of Dudley's favourite teases. But Dudley didn't know what it meant.

He thought about Cedric, about his the way he looked at Harry like he was precious. He thought about Cedric's arms on him, and about his lips. He liked the way he could talk to him; there weren't any real secrets.

I just like Cedric, he thought. It seemed easier that way, than the blanket gay statement. He certainly didn't like the other boys in the dorm. He didn't like the thought of kissing Dean or Seamus. He tried to picture some other men – muggle film stars or good-looking Quidditch players - but his mind constantly wandered back to Cedric.

You're _besotted_, he thought, derisively.

Ron came in, his face flushed. He banged the door behind him, started, and opened it again. He walked over, and sat on his bed opposite Harry.

"I was talking to Hermione," he said.

"Oh?" Harry asked, sounding as cold as he felt.

"She says I'm being a git."

Harry stayed silent.

"I …" Ron didn't seem to know what to say. He pulled at a strand of wool on the top blanket of his bed. His jaw worked, he seemed on the brink of saying something.

"Well, I s'pose I'd better go to bed," he said, quickly, after a long pause. Harry nodded. Ron, fully clothed, drew the hangings around his bed. Harry heard a rustle of fabric, and then silence.

(iv)

"Ron's still weird," Harry told Cedric. Most of Ron's animosity was gone, but he acted like Harry was as close a friend as Justin Finch-Fletchley and had changed partners in most of his classes.

Cedric squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"It's not _your _fault," Harry said. "People are so stupid."

"Hermione isn't," Cedric said.

"I know, but …" Harry sighed. "Ron was the first real friend I ever had."

"If he's a real friend, he'll come round, I promise you," Cedric said.

"I know. It's just … I feel like I'm choosing you over him. And I've known him longer than I've known you."

Cedric released his hand.

"It's not that I don't … like you, it's just, I dunno, it's almost, not _worth _it."

"Well, if you feel that way," Cedric said, "why are we here at all?"

"I don't mean it like that. Don't be all…"

"Don't be all what? You think this is easy for me?"

"Well… you know so much, I mean, you know you liked me. I feel like this has all been foisted on me!"

"It hasn't been foisted on you, Harry. I asked you, and you said yes."

"It's not as simple as that!" Harry shouted. He hadn't asked for this. None of this was his fault.

"I never heard my father cry… whatever happened, he never cried. Not until I told him I was gay," Cedric said.

Harry, face still hot with a confused rage, looked at him. "But he boasts about you all the time."

"I know," Cedric said. "It's to hide the fact that I bring shame upon them all. You want to know how long I've liked you, Harry? How long it took me to ask you? I've been looking at you since you were a _second year_."

"Have you … have you had a boyfriend before me?"

Cedric sighed. "Not really."

"Not really?"

"A couple of drunken kisses," Cedric said.

Harry leant his head on Cedric's shoulder. "So you're almost as naïve as me," he said.

Cedric laughed. "Well, I am a sixth year."

"So?"

"I can get my hands on firewhisky."

Harry grinned. Cedric gave his hair a playful tug.

"Don't think this is easy for me. It isn't any easier than it is for you," Cedric said.

Harder, Cedric thought.

"Okay. I'm … I'm sorry, Cedric."

"Don't worry about it."

"You know what we were talking about yesterday?"

"Rutting?" Cedric asked.

"Rutting?" Harry echoed, perplexed.

Cedric laughed. "I think I'm going to have to buy you a book," he said.

**Author's Note**: Apologies for taking so long to update. I'll try my hardest to be quicker next time. Many thanks for all the nice reviews I've received.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Blue Smiles**

(i)

Four days left, Harry thought hopelessly. Four days left.

Hermione and Cedric were poring over books, had been for hours. The words on Harry's swirled and squiggled, and he couldn't make much sense of them. Cedric came in and out of the library, occasionally discussing charms with Hermione, who had much more intelligent answers than Harry, and gently stroking the back of Harry's crooked neck.

"We'll find something," they both kept on saying. Their voices had been soothing and confident at the beginning of the week, but now they, too, seemed to be edging into panic.

Harry read desperately, his eyes flickering over diagrams of wizards who'd transfigured their bald spots into silk top hats, of wizards who'd transfigured themselves into witches, of wizards who'd turned their ears into fish. Fish had seemed helpful and Harry had read through pages and pages of confusing text, until he realised that the fish were purely for decoration.

"What's the point of this book?" he asked Cedric, who was standing behind him, as he anxiously pushed the hair of his forehead.

"Turn to page 520," Cedric said, and Harry stared at the page, trying to conceal his shock.

"That's a great book, that one," Cedric said. Harry stared at the small drawing. It showed what had to be a penis, moving into an arse and drawing outside again.

"It's a potion for making lube," Cedric said, so softly that Hermione couldn't hear.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off the motion of the penis. His mouth was dry. The sketch was very small; it seemed to be purely decorative. It would be easy to glance at the page with its large Gothic script and not notice the tiny design, as its sketchy penis shuddered in perpetual motion in an inky corner.

"It's…" he began, but didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"Very entertaining, but it won't help us with the task," Cedric said and pulled the book from Harry's hands.

Harry wearily grabbed another tomb from the pile. Cedric smiled at him quickly and began reading again. Harry watched him through his eyelashes. He couldn't figure out if the drawing turned him on or not. It fascinated him, but he wasn't sure if the fascination was lust or disgust or just curiosity. It was very hard to concentrate on breathing abilities of moray eels.

(ii)

Harry went to bed at three, but despite his eyes being so fuzzy from reading that he couldn't see, he wasn't able to sleep. He couldn't stop seeing the tiny sketch from the page of the book. It flickered at the back of his mind, mixed in with moray eels and merefolk.

It was the like the questions he'd been asking himself over and over. Am I gay? he thought to himself in the dark, looking at Ron's dark hangings. Am I gay? he wondered as he stared at pages in front of him in class. The words sent a cold note of fear through him. It wasn't like the panic the thought of the tournament gave him. It was a panic caused by the looks Ron wouldn't give him, and by the way Uncle Venron used to hiss the word "faggot" at actors he didn't like.

Harry hid his head under the pillow. He didn't want to think about Uncle Vernon, his brain was already too full of nightmares about drowning, and his endless questions. He just wanted it all to go away. And yet, he was sure, in a state like this, he'd just embarrass himself with another dream about his Uncle and Aunt Marge.

_He just wanted it all to go away_. He thought about himself before Christmas, untroubled by the egg and best friends with Ron. He tried to bring up an image of Cedric, something comforting; something to take his mind of things. But Cedric, really, was the root of all his problems, Harry decided.

He dreamt about being attacked by parchment penises, when he eventually managed to sleep.

(iii)

He jerked awake half-way through transfiguration, with the desperate realisation that there were only three days left suddenly fresh in his mind. He couldn't even begin to concentrate on the lesson, but sat rigid, in a state of panic. Ron (Professor McGonagall evidently hadn't let him change seats) gave him an odd, even apprehensive, look.

Harry barely noticed. He dashed from the class, forgetting to take his essay from Professor McGonagall before leaving. He still desperately hoped the library would be his salvation, and calmed down a little when he saw its doors. The books never seemed to give him any answers, but at least he felt like he was doing something.

The library smelt comfortingly musty. He walked to the small table by the window, and saw Cedric, half-obscured by a bookcase.

"Harry!" Cedric said, looking at him, and sounding unnecessarily delighted.

"'Lo," Harry said tiredly.

"You okay?" Cedric asked, peering distractedly down at his book again. Harry noticed how exhausted he looked, and suddenly didn't want to have to worry about him, too.

"No," Harry said.

"The task?" Cedric said, knowingly. "Harry, I'm sure we'll work it out."

"No," said Harry, "it's not the task."

"What then?" Cedric wasn't looking at him. Harry wished he would.

"I can't …" Harry said.

Cedric looked up, his finger keeping his place on the book. "Can't what?"

"I don't want to be a f-," Harry choked. He didn't want to say the word, and be like Uncle Vernon. "I don't want to be gay," he amended.

Cedric sighed. "You can't help it, if you are."

"But-" Harry stared at the books. His fearful feelings were so thick within him that he felt like he might choke upon them. He didn't know what would happen if he tried to voice his thoughts. It didn't seem safe to experiment.

"I have to go," Harry managed to say. "See you later."

"Wait!" Cedric said, standing up, and following Harry out of the library. It was lunchtime and students seemed to be milling around everywhere. Harry ducked into a group of Ravenclaws, but Cedric forced his way through and caught up with him.

"What's wrong?" Cedric said, when he'd cornered Harry in what passed for a secluded spot.

"I don't know," Harry said.

"I have to study," Cedric said, looking evasive.

"So study!" Harry shouted.

"Tell me what's wrong," Cedric said.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Go away, Cedric!"

"Why should I?" Cedric said. "I'm worried."

"Because you're messing everything up! Because I'm loosing Ron! Because nothing makes sense anymore!"

Cedric turned his head, but Harry caught a glimpse of his expression anyway. It hurt like a knife through the kidneys.

Harry's eyes were pricking with tears. He was just as frightened as before. His hands shook.

When he turned back around the corner, into the swell of people, he'd never wanted to see Hermione less, but there she was in front of him.

"Harry!" she said. She looked startled.

"What?" he said dully.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes!" he said. "Of course I'm okay. Just waiting to drown, that's all."

She shook her head, trying to force a hearty expression onto her face. "We'll go and research, then. Don't worry, Harry."

(iv)

The next few days passed in a blur of worry and loneliness. Harry couldn't help hoping Cedric would come over and offer his advice, but he never did. He never even seemed to come into the library any longer. Harry though he must have to come in some time, to get books, and must be avoiding him. That made Harry's hands begin to quiver again. He thought if he did see Cedric once more, his resolve would slip, and he'd beg for forgiveness.

But Cedric kept he head turned away if they saw each other in the great hall, and he always seemed to be surrounded by girls, his expression unreadable.

I'm so stupid, Harry thought as he pored through book after book, looking desperately for something, anything. He felt sudden rushes of hope when he saw a spell that seemed likely. He'd even imagine telling Cedric that he'd found out. But then Hermione would explain that this was no good, wouldn't help, and he'd feel even more desperate than before.

Even Ron made an appearance in the library, pulling out books at random and looking nervously at Harry. Harry's head had become too full of worry to even wonder why.

Ron pulled him aside at one point, "Listen, Harry…" he said at one point, but then stopped.

"What?" Harry asked, unable to concentrate.

"You look awful, mate," Ron said, with a nervous shout of laughter.

"That's what not sleeping does," Harry said, reaching for another book.

"Your bloke keeping you up at night?" Ron said, his voice unnaturally high.

"No," Harry said, "He isn't."

That was the last they said to each other before Hermione and Ron were both pulled away on a mysterious mission by Fred and George.

Harry stayed, frantically staring at books, until he could no longer stay awake.

(v)

The gillyweed, Dobby's face staring earnestly into his own, and blind panic, that was all Harry could remember of the morning, later on, with any real clarity.

He found himself standing by the freezing cold lakeside, seeing Cedric properly for the first time. Cedric gave him a glance of intense worry before looking back towards the lake. Harry noticed Cedric's fingernails were bitten down almost to the quick, and the flesh around them bulged gorily.

Then they were in the lake, and Harry no longer had even time to think, but had only cold water and an image of Dobby's face, earnestly advising him.

Cedric's hands were his last thought before he plunged.

(vi)

Cedric was blue with cold as they bobbed together at the bottom of the lake, surrounded by merefolk. Harry still felt at home in the water, but Cedric looked merely blue and nervous.

He tried to say something to Harry, but his words got caught within in his bubble.

Harry shrugged, and watched as he swam, bluely, towards Cho.

Cedric gestured desperately, urging him to follow, but Harry shook his head, pointing to Hermione, who looked ghostly in the half-light.

Cedric swam away reluctantly, offering him a half-smile. Its presence in Cedric's blue face made him feel a little better.

(v)

Ron gave him a funny look as they treaded icy water, side by side.

"Why are you saving me, not lover boy?"

Harry shrugged, not a mean feet when immersed in water. "Because he's already a champion."

They towed Fleur's sister between them. Ron called him an idiot and smiled.

_A/n : I'm sorry this is short. I'm working on another instalment as we speak, if that's any consolation. This chapter was the hardest to write, as it was almost impossible to do so without messing with canon a little. I tried to slide between the lines, but I'm not quite sure it worked. I hope you lot think it's okay! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews, they keep me writing, and I love to hear your opinions._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Parties**

(i)

Harry escaped the crowds of people, whether waiting to congratulate him or make fun of him, he wasn't sure. Ron had slapped him on the back and then wandered off to berate Hermione. Harry, wishing for his invisibility cloak, slipped between the crowds of people as quickly as possible, and stood outside the Hufflepuff common room, waiting to see Cedric return.

From the lack of noise coming from it, he assumed that they had chosen to party elsewhere.

He sat down on the opposite side of the corridor from the entrance, trying to conceal himself behind a dusty tapestry. He didn't think Cedric would appreciate the rest of the Hufflepuffs seeing him there.

He knew that he should feel euphoric after at least surviving the lake, but his hands quivered as he thought about Cedric and wondered what he was going to say.

He felt like throwing himself on his knees and begging for forgiveness, but he wasn't sure if that would merely make him look silly. He though about Cedric's look of concern, and his blue smile, and felt slightly better.

Cedric didn't hate him, he reminded himself firmly. He'd just been stupid.

I _am_ so stupid, he thought, tugging at the edge of the tapestry.

He pulled himself more firmly behind it as he heard approaching footsteps.

"Couldn't find him anywhere," a voice said.

"Poor Ced, I wonder what's in that lake?" someone replied.

"We'll have to start a celebration without him I suppose."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll turn up," the first voice said. "Those Gryffindor twins sold me two dozen Custard Creams, look!"

"Oh, fantastic!"

Harry, trying not to snigger at the image of Hufflepuffs turning into canaries, walked away from the common room as soon as he heard them all clatter inside.

He made for the Prefect's bathroom. It was obvious, now, that that was where Cedric would be if he wanted to see him.

"You took your time," Cedric said, when Harry had whispered the obligatory "pine fresh".

He was in the bathtub, with several hot taps running.

"That lake was bloody freezing," he said, almost conversationally, and looked at Harry.

"I think the – the gillyweed made me not notice," Harry said.

"I was worried about you," Cedric said quietly. "I was going to find you when I figured out the bubble-head charm, but I…"

"You were probably angry," Harry said. His hands still quivered. He had anticipated a lot more wrath.

"I don't know," Cedric said. "I was confused."

He kicked off from his side of the bath, and swam languorously towards Harry.

Harry tried to avert his gaze and concentrate on the problem at hand, but he was having trouble. He missed the smell of Cedric round him.

"Are you really that – that upset by this?" Cedric asked.

"No," Harry said. "I mean I thought I was – but then I felt more upset when I thought you – Cedric, I'm sorry…"

"It's not…" Cedric sighed. "Merlin, Harry, sometimes you make me feel like I'm inflicting this on you."

"No! I…" Harry shook his head, suddenly feeling clearer. "Sometimes I feel like you're changing me, but it's not a bad thing. It's sudden, and confusing … but, Cedric, I _missed_ you."

Cedric looked at him for a few moments longer, his gaze so penetrating it made Harry nervous.

Then he smiled. "I feel silly talking to you from down here," he said.

"Will I get in, too?" Harry asked, feeling a blush start. Bathing together, this time, felt different somehow.

"Yes," Cedric said. "Do."

Harry self-consciously began to remove layers of clothing. His skin was damp beneath them; he hadn't bothered to dry properly after the lake.

When he got down to his underwear, he glanced nervously at Cedric, but Cedric didn't look away. Harry awkwardly eased his underwear down, over his knobbly knees and disentangled his feet from it.

He didn't look at Cedric as he leapt for the water. He landed in it with a great splash. It was almost uncomfortably hot, and he could feel his chilled hands swelling slightly in it.

"Can you turn the taps off?" he asked.

"Yeah, alright," Cedric said. "I'm beginning to thaw anyway."

Harry swam lazily to where Cedric had been leaning. His muscles ached a little.

"You feeling better?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, much," Cedric said, not quite meeting Harry's eyes.

"Your hands," Harry said, suddenly, seeing them above the water. They looked even worse from close to. "What did you do to them?"

Cedric had pulled them beneath the water. "Nothing," he said. "I was nervous."

"'Bout what?"

"Everything. My father almost insisted on coming, I had to beg him not to."

"Didn't you want him to?"

"No!" Cedric said emphatically. "He'd only…"

He stopped. The fingers of one hand tugged at the skin around the nails of his other.

"Cedric," Harry said softly, and held Cedric's hands still.

Cedric's eyes remained on his hands, trapped by Harry's, for a few seconds. Then he looked up into Harry's face.

Harry was never sure which one of them breathed, "I missed you", but the words were barely heard over the faint lapping of the water before they kissed.

Harry was still holding Cedric's hands, like a barrier between them, as they leant up, over it, to press their wet lips together. Their faces were covered with droplets of warm water and condensation from the bath, and their cheeks stuck clammily together for a few moments at a time, before releasing and allowing them to open their mouths for each other.

Harry, almost drowsily, his mind was so intent on Cedric's mouth, felt his penis hardening in the water.

He released Cedric's hands suddenly, and Cedric's body fell slowly towards his own through the bubbly water. Their erections pressed together.

"Are you…?" Cedric said, but he never finished his sentence, because Harry was already kissing him again, eager, suddenly, to feel Cedric's body pressed against ever curve of his skin, for their every orifice to be entangled.

Cedric pulled away slightly, "Harry, I…"

"It's ok," Harry said, reaching for Cedric's chewed hands, and pressing them around him.

Cedric didn't try any more self-restraint. And suddenly Harry felt like he was being swallowed by all his new sensations, by the feel of Cedric's body rubbing against his, in all the right places. He barely felt like he could remember his own name.

But he could remember Cedric's.

(ii)

"That was…" Harry said languidly, not bothered to finishing his sentence.

"Feel better?" Cedric said, smiling at him, his head tilted back against the side of the bath. His hair was damp.

Everything was damp, Harry thought, stretching luxuriously, his own wet hair sticking to the back of his neck.

"So, I'm not a virgin anymore?" Harry asked slowly.

"Well, you sort of are," Cedric said. "It depends. We'll talk about semantics later."

"Okay," Harry said lazily. Cedric kissed his temple, smoothing his hair out of his eyes. It stuck back, because of the wet, leaving Harry's white forehead strangely exposed.

"I think you need more extravagant eyebrows," Cedric said, and dabbed some foam onto Harry's forehead.

"What?" Harry murmured.

"Wizards should have entertaining eyebrows, I think," Cedric said. "It makes them seem more magical."

"Okay," Harry said, too sleepy to bother responding properly. He hadn't felt this relaxed since February approached.

Cedric chuckled. "You can't sleep here," he said.

"How late is it?" Harry asked grudgingly.

"You're wearing a watch," Cedric said.

Harry looked at it. Its surface was smeared with something, and he rubbed it off.

"It's ten past nine," he said.

"It's stopped, Harry," Cedric said, tapping its surface.

It was dark outside, and the bath was getting cold.

"We'd better go," Cedric said. "Back to the common rooms."

"They've probably eaten all our party," Harry said.

"Yeah."

"I don't want to leave," Harry said.

"We'd better," Cedric said. "Someone's might be looking for us."

"Yeah," Harry sighed, and they grudgingly hauled themselves over the side.

Harry's limbs were tired and sore, and his head didn't seem to be working properly. He dressed slowly, putting socks in the wrong places, and forgetting to put his underwear on before he pulled on his robe.

"I'll leave first, in case someone spots me," Cedric said. He sounded more furtive than necessary, Harry's drowsy brain decided.

He nodded, however, and sank into the quick embrace Cedric gave him. Their kiss was an awkward one, with bashed noses, but Harry couldn't help smiling at Cedric none the less.

He padded to his common room, undisturbed, save by Professor Flitwick, who offered him congratulations. His stomach growled with hunger, and the quiet in the common room suggested it was suppertime, but as soon as he saw a chair he sank gladly into it.

He smiled vaguely at various people as they trooped upstairs.

"Harry!" Hermione said. "Where _were_ you?"

"I'm hungry," he said.

"That gillyweed was fantastic!" she said. "Why did we never think of it?"

"To make me as worried as possible," Harry murmured.

"Have some cake," Ron said.

"Thanks," Harry took a large bite from some heavy plum cake.

"How's lover boy?" Ron asked.

"Alright," Harry said.

"Don't call him that!" Hermione said. "His name is Cedric."

Ron ignored her. "Did you spend this whole afternoon with him?"

"Most of it," Harry said.

"You missed the party. In your honour," Ron said.

"Did you miss me?" Harry said cheerfully, licking the last traces of the cake from his fingers.

"We managed alright without you," Ron said.

Harry saw Hermione kick Ron meaningfully.

"Ow!" Ron said. "But we did!"

"'Course you did," Harry said. "Any more cake?"

"There's some custard creams," Ron said.

"Fred and George's ones?"

Ron nodded guiltily.

"They sold them to the Hufflepuff's too," Harry told him.

Ron laughed.

"I have some crisps up in my room," Hermione said, standing up.

"Did lover boy turn into a canary, then?" Ron asked.

Harry laughed, "no, I would have warned him."

"That was great, in the lake," Ron said.

Harry shook his head. "I was daft to think they were really going to die."

"Nah," Ron said. "Moral fibre, remember?"

Harry grinned at him. Hermione returned with the crisps.

"How's Vicky, then?" Ron asked her, looking more cheerful than petulant.

She raised her eyebrows at Harry.

"Vicky's a better name than lover boy," Harry said.

"But it'll make people think I'm the gay one!" Hermione said.

"Nah, I think 'lover boy' is fairly explicit," said Harry.

"Have some crisps," Ron said peaceably, offering the packet to them both.

_A/n: Hope the sex isn't too badly written! Not really my forte, I must admit. _


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – Behind the Sphinx 

(i)

Cedric watched the shadows his gnawed fingers made as he ran them over his pale yellow blankets. His bed covers were very clean this morning, as they'd been changed the evening before. They felt different to his skin than the ones he'd had on before, that had been sweated into and drooled on for at least two weeks. These felt strangely cool against his skin. He watched as the faint February sunlight made illuminated his fingers, making the edges of his flesh a brighter pink than usual.

These hands gave Harry Potter a hand job, Cedric thought, and grinned to himself.

He glanced at the piles of homework littered around his bed, and couldn't bring himself to open them, although he needed to catch up. Instead he climbed over them and decided to scavenge some late breakfast. His clock read half past eleven, and the house elves usually cleared away the tables in the great hell at about ten.

There was already a small gaggle of Hufflepuffs standing in the kitchen, chatting merrily and eating sandwiches. Cedric choose one with meat paste and watercress and wandered aimlessly down the corridor. He felt finally rested, after the sleepless weeks before the test, but his brain seemed to have switched down a gear. It only wanted to focus on Harry and food.

He wandered outside at last, thinking vaguely of doing some flying, but not quite sure he had the energy. As he turned towards the greenhouses, his father's eagle owl swooped down onto his shoulder. He held out his leg insistently and fluttered his wings impatiently as Cedric untied the letter.

"Sorry I wasn't at breakfast, Eros," Cedric said, trying to placate, and went to stroke the bird's downy chest feathers. He earned himself a sharp rap of beak across his knuckles before Eros flew away. He made straight for the Owlery.

Cedric sighed softly, and stuffed the letter into his pocket, trying to ignore it. After a few minute's wander, he decided that this wouldn't work, and gloomily dug the letter out. The grass was hard with frost, so he leant against a post at the side of a greenhouse. Its blue paint was curling up and flecking off, revealing a bright red underneath.

It wasn't as if there was ever anything bad in the letters, Cedric thought, not really. He forced himself to open the seal.

We're very proud of you, son. You've proved yourself a credit to the family once again. I'm sorry I didn't get to see your victory (particularly over that presumptuous Potter lad!) but I'm sure you don't want an old fart like me embarrassing you in front of your all friends. How is Cho Chang after her incident underwater? I heard you and she were quite the stars of the Yule Ball. I'm sure she's delighted at being so important to you!

It continued for several paragraphs in that ilk. Cedric read the last line _I'm so glad you've changed your ways, son _several times before scrunching up the letter. It was as close as his father ever came to mentioning his homosexuality, and it stung all the more for it. He was about to throw the letter away, but, afraid someone might see it, he stuffed it into his pocket instead.

_Changed your ways, changed your ways, _the phrase rang through his skull. Paragraphs of gushing pride were reduced to nothing by the words. He chewed at his raw hands before forcing himself to stuff them back into his pockets.

He wasn't sure where to turn now. It was too cold to spend much time standing outside, and he no longer felt like messing with his broom. He walked back towards the castle.

"Cedric…" He heard, softly, behind him. He turned quickly, hoping it was Harry.

It was Cho. "Cedric, hi," she said softly, giving a little giggle.

"Cho," he said. She was the last person he wanted to talk to.

"I've been … looking for you since yesterday. I just, um, wanted to thank you. For, you know…"

"It's okay," Cedric said. He coughed. "All part of the job, eh?"

"Yeah…"

He was about to turn away, forcing a smile towards Cho, but she spoke again.

"Um, Cedric?"

"Yes?"

"There's a Hogsmeade weekend. Soon. You know?"

"Yes," Cedric said, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"Would you like to come with me?"

"Sorry, Cho, I think I have other plans," he said, thinking of Harry. _I'm so glad you've changed your ways _his father's voice said in his head.

Cho's face turned slightly pink. "But I thought I was the thing you'd miss most?"

"Cho," Cedric said, softly. "I…" He paused, biting his lips. Could it hurt?

"You're right, Cho. I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you," he said.

"Would you?"

"Yes," he forced another smile. He could write this in his letter to his father, he thought, feeling slightly better.

"I'm so glad!" Cho said, grinning.

"Me too," Cedric said.

They stood on the frosty grass, staring at each other for a couple of moments, smiling awkwardly.

"I'd better go," Cedric said. "Study - "

"Oh," said Cho, "oh, yes."

Cedric slipped his way back to the castle. He was immediately annoyed with himself for his sudden reaction to Cho's request.

He pulled out his father's letter and tore it into pieces, angry, suddenly, desperately angry, at the affect Amos had on him.

(ii)

Harry woke up quickly, a tingling sense of euphoria filling him all the way through his body. Cedric, the task over – he grinned, and stretched luxuriously.

"You awake, mate?" Ron said.

"Nah," Harry said, too sleepy to pay attention to him.

"You missed breakfast," Ron said. "You'll miss lunch if you don't hurry up."

"Why are you so cheerful?" Harry murmured, and hauled himself upright.

"Am I?" Ron said vaguely. He was leafing through his Charms book. Harry looked at him through silted eyes for a moment before closing them again.

"You might want to get up, mate, it's gone twelve," Ron prodded him.

"Since when are you in charge?" Harry said with a sleepy grin in Ron's direction before he wandered towards the bathroom.

When he came back in, Ron was still flicking through the book, occasionally mouthing a spell here and there.

"Have we a test?" Harry asked.

"Where've you been? It's on all the spells we've done so far."

"So far this term?"

"So far this ever," Ron said.

Harry swore. "When?"

"Monday," Ron said. "Did you sleep during Charms?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Didn't you notice?"

"No, I was too busy trying to copy Hermione's notes," Ron said.

Harry sighed and rooted through his bag for his charms book. He couldn't really concentrate on more than a few words before he said,

"Shall we go and get lunch first?"

"Yes, let's," Ron said, and they made their way downstairs.

Hermione waylaid them in the hall.

"I've been studying! You can't expect me not to eat!" Ron said.

"I wasn't looking for you, Ron," she said. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I was just in the bathroom," she began.

"We really wanted to know that, Hermione," Ron said.

"As I was saying," she continued, giving him a glare to rival Snape's, "I was just in the girl's loo, and I overheard Cho talking."

"And?" Harry said.

"And – and she was saying Cedric agreed to go out with her!"

"Cedric?" Harry said. The day before flashed into his mind. "Course he didn't," he said.

"Well, she said he did," Hermione said.

"She was lying then, wasn't she?" Harry said, feeling his cheeks redden.

"'Course she was," Ron said, "let's get lunch."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, "she _did_ sound serious."

"I'll ask Cedric then," Harry said. "And I'm sure he'll say you're wrong."

Hermione looked worried, but Harry turned away from her, following Ron up the long corridor of tables. He didn't see Cedric at the Hufflepuff table, so he was forced to endure eating steak-and-kidney pie while Hermione watched him worriedly. It made him more edgy than he really thought was necessary.

"What about charms?" Ron whined as he made for the direction of Hufflepuff.

"What about it?" Harry said, and hurried away.

(iii)

As he stood outside the common room he no longer thought about Cho – all he could think was how much he wanted to see Cedric again, feel his body against him.

He stood near the entrance for quite some time, fruitlessly. When he saw a Hufflepuff sixth-year walking to the entrance, he decided he couldn't stand waiting for a Cedric that might never appear and asked him,

"Is Cedric Diggory in there?"

The Hufflepuff, Harry thought his name might be Aidan, shrugged.

"Why d'you want to know?" he asked.

"I just do," Harry said.

"Looking for help in your next task, eh?" he said.

"No!" Harry said, rather too vehemently.

"Alright, alright," Aidan said, raising his eyebrows.

He murmured a password and stuck his head into the common room.

"Oy, Diggory, some kid wants you!" he shouted, loud enough for the whole room to hear. Harry cringed.

Aidan wandered into the common room, and shut the door. Harry stood outside for an awkward few minutes, wondering if Cedric was really inside at all.

Then he appeared, calling to someone behind him as he shut the door.

"_Harry_!" he said in one breath, and Harry found himself pulled tight to Cedric's chest. He nuzzled his face into Cedric's side.

When they pulled apart, Cedric looking shifty as if he just realised where they were, Harry thought he looked a bit odd. His face was pinched, and the tattered skin around his nails looked like it had recently been picked and peeled off.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"Not really," Cedric said. "You shouldn't have come to the common room – they'll ask questions."

"I wanted to see you," Harry said. "Besides, you can say you're helping me in potions."

"I gave potions up after fifth year," Cedric said.

"Charms, then," Harry said, as he vaguely remembered his charms test.

Cedric sighed. "It's a daft excuse."

"We can think up a better one," Harry said. "Can we – can we go somewhere?"

Cedric nodded. "Course we can."

They wandered out into the chill afternoon. Some of the frost had abated, but most of it clung in chill patches.

They walked away from the lake, both feeling he had seen entirely enough of it, and headed instead for one of the rose gardens. They found a secluded bench, well hidden by a statue of a large sphinx.

The sphinx snored comfortingly as Harry shivered and Cedric cuddled up against him.

"Are you going out with Cho?"

"What?" Cedric said.

"I didn't think you were," Harry said cheerfully, pressing his cold nose into Cedric's warm neck. "Hermione said something."

Cedric coughed, and didn't flinch away from Harry's icy face as Harry had expected.

"Well I … Well I am, actually."

"What?" Harry pulled away slightly to look at Cedric anxious face. "Why?"

"I… I had a letter from my dad today," Cedric raised one of his hands nervously, bringing it towards his teeth. Harry stopped him, holding the hand awkwardly in his own, trying not to touch the skinless parts. They looked sore, raw.

"And?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"And he was – he was so happy that Cho was what I would miss most. And I didn't want to disappoint him."

Harry let go of Cedric's hand. "So you went and found her, then?"

"No – I – she asked me," Cedric said. "And I agreed."

"So she's going to think you like her?"

"Well, she was the thing I'd miss most," Cedric said. "I mean, not really the thing I'd miss most, but…"

"I know," Harry said.

He didn't quite want to look at Cedric. He focused on a brown insect that was crawling along the sphinx's elegant tail instead.

Cedric's hand still lay on his knee. He looked at the torn skin sadly, and put his other arm round Cedric.

"Did your dad really upset you, then?" he asked.

"Yeah," Cedric said. "He did. He – he said he was glad I'd changed my ways."

"I'm glad you haven't," Harry said.

"I know – but I – I want him to like me so badly," Cedric said. "He was always so proud of me. He was always my favourite person. The most important thing. When I started Hogwarts, I used to count down the days 'til I'd see him again."

Cedric drew in a raspy breath. "And then when I told him I liked boys – I didn't think he'd mind. It made me so happy to know – to look at boys I liked and know one day I'd be able be with them. But when I told him he – he – he – he didn't like me anymore."

Harry didn't know what to say. He looked up at Cedric's face and was horrified to see tears there.

"Oh, Cedric…" he breathed, and reached up to touch Cedric's cheek.

"Harry," Cedric chocked out between difficultly stifled sobs. "I…"

"Shh," Harry said, and, awkwardly, nervously, reached up to dry away the tears, to kiss Cedric's contorted face.

"I don't know why he doesn't like you," Harry whispered, "there's nothing not to like."

"Harry," Cedric said, softly, urgently, and Harry found them kissing, Cedric's mouth warm despite the chilly air, his tongue gentle in Harry's mouth. His tears were warm on Harry's cold cheeks.

When they'd eventually pulled away, Cedric sighed, a long shaky sigh. Harry hoped he wouldn't start crying again.

"I'm sorry," Cedric said. "That was – that was stupid."

"It wasn't," Harry said, still feeling a little awkward. He pressed his thumb into the palm of the hand of Cedric's he held.

The brown beetle was staying very still on the curve of the sphinx's spine.

"I have nightmares," Harry said with a cough. "And I cry a bit, too, sometimes. It's not really stupid, Cedric. I mean, it's not like you can help it."

"No, you can't," Cedric said. The cuddled quietly for a moment, their robes getting tangled up in each other's.

"What do you have nightmares about?" Cedric asked.

"Oh, Voldemort," Harry said, and didn't apologise as Cedric winced. "And also, my Uncle – the muggle I used to live with."

"Was he mean?" Cedric asked.

"Yes," Harry said. He though he might leave it at that, but he continued, " he was never very nice – but he didn't actually hit me or anything. Except once."

"And you have nightmares about it?" Cedric said.

Harry nodded. He didn't want to say anymore. This was farther than his confidences had ever gone with anyone.

"Oh, Harry," Cedric said, more quietly this time. "I'm sorry."

Harry nodded again. They sat quiet for a time, cuddled close, until it got too cold even for that.

"Let's go back to the castle," Cedric said.

Harry agreed, "but I don't really want to – to go away from you right now," he said and blushed. He thought he'd blushed more in the space of the last half an hour than he had in the rest of his life.

Cedric squeezed his hand. "Neither do I."

A/n: Thank you for all the lovely reviews, kind readers. I apologise for all the soppy moments in this chapter, hope they're not too cringe-worthy.

Also, I'd love a beta to check over my dodgy spelling, if anyone's willing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Yellow Hangings**

(i)

"I wish we could … I don't know, find somewhere cosy," Harry said.

"Me too," Cedric said. "Even the prefect's bathroom is chilly at the moment."

"Stupid February!" Harry said.

They were walking back up towards the castle. It was beginning to get dark, and more frost was gathering on the grass. They weren't holding hands any longer as they were in sight of the castle, but they were walking so close together that their bodies kept brushing.

The entrance hall was full of smells of supper, loud with the noise of people. Harry found himself moving closer to Cedric's side, not father away like he knew he should. He didn't want to face people, and loose this time that was only theirs.

"Shall we go to the kitchens?" Cedric asked, his breath ruffling Harry's hair.

"Yeah," Harry quickly said, turning left, towards the Kitchen and away from the Great Hall.

Cedric found them bread, and slices of warm chicken, mayonnaise, tomatoes and huge wedges of fruitcake.

They ate in the prefect's bathroom, for want of a better place, sitting almost on the water-heater, trying to eek out every scrap of heat from it.

"Can't we make a fire?" Harry said.

Cedric made a little blue fire in a soap-dish, but it didn't cast much heat.

They ate their supper huddled close together. Harry didn't feel like talking. He felt like he'd said enough. It was enough to feel Cedric's warm body beside him, enough to watch him lick mayonnaise from his fingers.

"Harry?" Cedric said.

"Yeah?"

"Have you got your invisibility cloak?"

"I think so," Harry felt around for the roll of material in his pocket, and found it.

"I had an idea," Cedric said, with a faint chuckle.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Why don't you come into the my bedroom with me? You could hide under the cloak, and I could pull the curtains around my bed."

"I have a feeling someone would notice," Harry said.

"Not if we were quiet," Cedric said. "There's a good spell that makes people around you unable to hear you. They just hear buzzing, not words. They hear sounds but they would know…"

"Good spell!" Harry said.

"It's great. Professor Snape taught it to us once when he was substituting charms."

"He never taught me anything that cool!" Harry said.

"So will we try it then?" Cedric asked eagerly.

"Okay," Harry said. "How would we do it?"

They decided that Harry would hold onto Cedric and allow himself to be lead to the dorm behind him. They'd just hope no one would step too close to Cedric. Harry thought it would be simpler just to follow Cedric, but Cedric said it would never work.

They practised a few times in the bathroom mirror, Harry hidden and holding onto Cedric. Cedric tried to walk as naturally as possible, which had limited affect. Harry kept on laughing and trying to stifle it. His cock was beginning to harden with the rubbing against Cedric's body as they walked.

"Do you think it will work?" Cedric asked.

"Might do," Harry said. "That, or we'll have some really difficult explaining to do."

Cedric gave him a long kiss, which made his trousers even tighter.

"Right. Let's try," Cedric said, and they made their way downstairs, Harry already carefully hidden in his cloak.

"It's not going to work, is it?" Harry said.

"We might as well try," Cedric said, talking to a spot well to the left of Harry.

Harry found himself giggling again. All the sadness of the afternoon seemed to have evaporated, and he felt light and silly, like the first time he drank butterbeer.

"On your head be it," Harry said, quoting one of McGonagall's favourite sayings.

"Get your arms round me then! Quick, I can hear someone coming!"

Harry ducked behind Cedric. His hands were on Cedric's hips when someone rounded the corner.

It was Aidan. "Where've you been all day?" he said, grinning.

"Eh, practicing Quidditch," Cedric said.

"Why?"

"You never know, it might come in handy," Cedric said. Harry forced back a giggle and made a slight chocking noise.

"What'd you say?" Aidan said.

"Coughing up chicken bones," Cedric said.

Aidan raised his eyebrows. "What did Potter want?"

"Oh, you know, the usual…"

"What, a quick shag in the library?" Aidan said. Harry could tell from his voice it was a joke, but he could almost feel Cedric's blush.

"N-no," Cedric said, coughing. "Who'd want to do it in there with Madame Pince staring at you?"

"Who knows, Diggory, maybe you're kinky," Aidan said, with a slightly forced laugh.

"Yeah," Cedric muttered. "Look, are we going in?"

"Hedgepigs!" Aidan said, and Harry wrapped his arms more tightly around Cedric, his vision obscured entirely in the black Cedric's robe.

The room was thronged with people. Harry could feel them pressing around on all sides. He understood now why Cedric had laughed when he'd ask why he couldn't just slip through the people instead of clinging onto Cedric. He felt himself bumped and jostled several times. He edged his head slightly away from Cedric to peer around.

The room was much smaller than the Gryffindor common room, its walls lined with cheerful hanging and books and brightly coloured boxes. It was full of comfortable bright yellow chairs and sofas, and little tables. It reminded Harry of a much brighter version of the Divination classroom. It didn't have fireplaces, but instead there was a squat wood-burning stove in the middle of the room, with a long slim chimney disappearing into the roof.

"Stop gawking!" Cedric whispered, trying to navigate his way through the throng of chairs to one of the many spiralling staircases that cluttered up the edges of the room.

"What, Ced?" a slim girl said, leaning close enough to him that Harry could smell her.

"Nothing Flo," Cedric said.

"Really?" Flo said. "Could have sworn I heard you whisper something."

"No honestly, I was probably just yawning," Cedric said. "I'm dead tired."

Flo chuckled. "Got some pretty girl stashed away, Cedric?"

"What?" Cedric said.

"I'll say no more," she said, winking hugely. Harry was pretty sure Cedric was blushing again. He was standing, frozen, and Harry gave him a light kick.

Cedric flinched, and began to walk to the staircase, which was finally beside them. He waved to Flo vaguely as he began to ascend.

This was the trickiest staircase Harry had ever climbed. It was impossible to keep completely in step with Cedric because both their feet wouldn't fit on one of the small rickety steps. Their bodies kept rubbing together as they jostled; it began to get very distracting.

Eventually Harry let go, and made his way up alone, looking back into the room below. It was bigger than he had though at first, just so cluttered that this was difficult to see. The stairs were oaken, their light polish chipped. The room wasn't as lavishly furnished as the Gryffindor common room, but it was just as cosy.

Cedric tugged at Harry's cloak as they entered the dorm, and Harry obligingly grabbed his arm.

"Mercifully, mercifully empty," Cedric breathed.

Harry laughed. "Oh, you sounded so silly talking to Aidan," he said.

"Well it wasn't easy, what with you their behind me," Cedric said, and Harry laughed again.

"Bed, then?" he said. "Better hide me before that Flo comes in to see what you're really doing."

"She wouldn't!" Cedric looked startled.

Cedric's bed was on of another two in the room. The beds were perhaps larger than the Gryffindor's, but a lot shabbier.

Cedric pulled Harry to him, and they sat on the bed, the hangings drawn around them. There was almost enough room to stretch.

"_Muffliato_," Cedric whispered.

They looked at each other in the warm light that came through the thin yellow hangings. Something was different now. Harry no longer felt like giggling.

"I can only see your head," Cedric said.

"What? Oh," Harry pulled of the cloak; it fell in a shimmering pile at the end of the bed.

"Better," Cedric put his hands on Harry's shoulders, squeezing them slightly. "You're in my bed."

"Yeah," Harry said, and leant forward, and they were kissing.

Their legs tangled uncomfortable together as they kissed, and for a long time they ignored the cramps in their thighs, until Harry thrust forward, and he was lying on top of Cedric, their cocks gently rubbing together through the folds of cloth.

Their lips no longer felt for mouths, but searched for necks, earlobes, nipples. Their clothes fell in a messy pile at the end of the bed, Cedric lying on his robe, Harry's underwear in a tangle around his ankles.

"Am I doing this right?" Harry asked, hesitant, as his tongue explored its way down Cedric's body.

"I think so," Cedric said, moaned, and Harry, tentatively, licked what he had been searching for.

It felt more personal than the night before, there was no warm water to make their limbs slick; they were stuck together with sweat and salvia, no layer of soap separating their hot, urgent bodies.

They were confused, uncertain, perhaps even more tonight, now that their mouths were engaged in something new. Harry had never known he could have sensations quite like this, when Cedric swallowed him, he bit so hard into his arm to control his cries that he drew blood.

Cedric peered up into his face after that, his fingers round Harry's chewed wrist.

"What happened? Harry?"

Harry smiled at him, and clumsily reached down to embrace his lover. He suspected Cedric's expression, a mixture of wonder and dazed stupidity, was a mirror of his own.

Their kisses were slow, gentle caresses on the sides of their mouths, comforting them, reminding them that they were still the same even after all that sensation.

They were pressed tightly together, in the confines of the bed, their sticky, boneless limbs meshed into position.

The salty sweat began to cool on Harry's body. He leant into Cedric.

"How about under the bedclothes?" he whispered.

Cedric made an unintelligible noise, and they struggled to get the bedclothes over them.

Harry thought he could hear the room's other occupants, and for a moment, feared Cedric's spell hadn't worked.

"Cedric?" he whispered.

"Mm," Cedric rolled over, and threw one of his arms over Harry's bare chest.

"Can we talk about semantics now?"

Cedric laughed against his neck. "If we must."

Harry didn't answer straight away. It felt too good to be here, even in the cramped bed, to feel Cedric's skin against his. The way their thighs and arms pressed inexorably together – it felt almost more intimate than their sex, and Harry basked.

Before Cedric began to drift off, Harry asked, "so am I a virgin or aren't I?"

"I don't think we could call you a virgin," Cedric said. He stretched his legs, his toes rubbing against the arch of Harry's foot. It tickled. "Remember that picture in the library? With the potion?"

"The little sketch?"

"Yeah," Cedric said, "I think, semantically speaking, that's considered sex. But I dunno though."

"Confused," Harry said and yawned.

He was beginning to drift off when he found himself compelled to ask, "so are we going to do _that_ sometime?"

"Sure," Cedric said. "But not before a Quidditch match."

Harry closed his eyes. One of his arms was trapped a little uncomfortably beneath him, but he was too relaxed to move. His nose was pressed against Cedric's neck, breathing in the sweaty, spicy smell of him. Harry slept.

(ii)

"Harry, Harry…"

"Nrr?"

"Wake up," Cedric whispered. Harry started awake as he heard Cedric's voice.

"I'm…" he stopped.

"Yes," Cedric was sitting up, looking down at him.

"I just woke up, myself," Cedric said. "You should leave before everyone else wakes up."

Harry nodded groggily.

"What time?"

"Half five," Cedric said.

Harry allowed himself to be handed his clothes.

"Where's the loo?" he asked.

"This way," Cedric opened the curtains. "And keep quiet."

The crept into the bathroom, and Cedric whispered another "_muffliato_."

"I don't think the sound of someone pissing will make anyone suspicious," Harry said.

"Yeah, yeah, get dressed," Cedric said, pacing around.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"It was a bit daft, doing that," Cedric said. Harry, deciding to leave any kind of washing until he got back to Gryffindor, paused in pulling on his robe.

"I liked it," Harry said.

"I know," Cedric stopped pacing. "Just, it would be so easy to have been caught."

"But we weren't," Harry said. He went over to Cedric, too sleepy to feel anything but affection.

Cedric hugged him, and Harry kissed the side of his neck, just above his shoulder, where his nose has been all night.

"When'll I see you?"

"Later today?"

Harry nodded, "after supper."

"You'd better run," Cedric said.

"I'm going. You stay up here."

"Yes," Cedric said.

Harry caught one last glimpse of him, standing on the buttermilk yellow tiles, his face nervous, before he padded down the stairs.

Someone was asleep near the stove, snoring faintly. Other than that, all was quiet. Harry let himself out.

(iii)

Harry was shaken awake for a second time that morning. He blinked dreamily, hoping it was Cedric and knowing it wasn't.

"Where were you?" Ron said.

Harry shrugged.

"With Cedric?" Ron said. "You should have said something. Hermione was worried."

"Sorry," Harry said, struggling up.

"Let's go down and get breakfast, and show her you're alive."

"Great," Harry said. He'd had a shower before he went back to bed again, and his hair stuck up even more oddly than usual.

Ron laughed. "What have you been doing?"

"I washed my hair," Harry said, trying to sound dignified. It didn't really come off.

"I don't think I want to know about you and pretty boy," Ron said.

"You probably don't," Harry agreed, and they went downstairs.

Hermione met them in the common room with a stack of toast.

"I wanted kippers," Ron said.

"I wouldn't go down to the great hall just now," Hermione said, edgily, looking at Harry.

"You shouldn't stay out all night like that, Harry, you could get in real trouble," Hermione said, but before he could respond, she continued "oh, Harry, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't say that."

"Why not?" Ron said sounding startled.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione was saying, thrusting the toast at Ron. "That awful Rite Skeeter…"

"What? What happened?" Harry said.

Hermione, her face pale, handed him a newspaper.

**A/n:** Many thanks for reviews and support, greatly appreciated. Next chapter up soon!

Many thanks, also, to my betas Jérémie and Simnovorii. Any mistakes still present in this chapter are entirely my own fault for not listenign to them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Howlers **

(i)

Eros woke Cedric later that morning. He tugged insistently at Cedric's earlobe until Cedric grabbed the letter, and made a show of opening it. Eros didn't fly away. He perched on the bedpost, staring at Cedric with disconcerting amber eyes.

"Dad must train you to be like this," Cedric said, picking at the envelope's seal. He didn't want to read another letter from his father, especially not now, when he was still sticky from his night with Harry. It seemed too intrusive.

He scanned the letter once, quickly, and then, his hands shaking, much more slowly. His breath caught, and his heart pounded as he read it one last time. His head swimming, he dressed as quickly as he could, stuffing the letter into his pocket.

Eros flew to his shoulder, nipping his ear and pulling on his hair in ways that could only be described as painful.

"Piss off!" Cedric found himself screaming, shoving at the bird. With an angry tightening of the claws and a smack of wings, Eros flew away, dropping one elegant feather in his wake.

He landed on the windowsill, staring at Cedric balefully.

"Piss off," Cedric said again, much more quietly this time.

As soon as someone spotted him coming down the rickety staircase, the room below fell into a deep hush. Cedric felt, for a second, like he was supposed to be giving a speech. He imagined beginning, "and today, ladies and gentlemen, I am going to speak about the delights of Sodom and Gomorrah…" It was what they would expect, now, after all.

Once he'd reached the bottom of what felt like the longest staircase he'd ever climbed, the room began to fill with the buzz of whispering.

He stood by the staircase, not quite able to bring himself to walk the rest of the way across the room. People who would usually come over to greet him were eyeing him warily. He dug his fingernails into his palms, tugging at the soft skin there.

Ernie Macmillan a fourth year to whom Cedric had never paid the slightest attention walked over to him and smiled.

"Cedric," he said.

"Hullo," Cedric said nervously.

"Sorry to hear about that terrible publicity, Cedric," Ernie said. "She's an awful woman isn't she?"

"Oh – oh, yes," Cedric said, coughing.

"Well, I'm sure everyone's entirely on your side of things, Cedric," Ernie said. Cedric felt a little like a kindly uncle was addressing him, not a fourth year.

"Well – I don't know about that," Cedric said.

"I'm sure all the good people are," Flo said, on the other side of him, giving him a cheerful grin.

"The whole thing is preposterous of course," Ernie said. "I know Harry quite well, I'm sure nothing of that sort would happen with either of you."

"Oh," Cedric said, not sure what to say to that statement. His fingers gripped his palms more tightly.

Flo winked at him, "and even if it were true, we'd still be on Cedric's side, wouldn't we?" she said to Ernie.

"Oh certainly, certainly," Ernie said. "I'd better be off, Cedric, this'll blow over soon enough."

"He's weird," Flo said cheerfully, as Ernie walked off.

"I suppose he can't help it," Cedric mumbled.

Flo laughed. "I'm sure he can't," she said. "I never saw such a self-possessed fourteen-year-old, though."

Cedric smiled. "Flo," he said. "I-"

"It's true isn't it?"

"I – yes – well, I haven't read the article yet, but in principle, yes, it's true."

"Oh well," Flo said. "I'm sure it'll stop being such hot gossip in a week or two."

"Flo, you don't happen to know where the – where the Gryffindor common room is, do you?"

"Are you sure it's a good idea to go up there?" Flo said.

"I have to," Cedric said.

"I do know – I used to go out with one of those Quidditch-playing twins. Had to give it up in the end, too confusing, I always forgot which one I was going out with, but I do know where the common room."

"Thanks," Cedric said. He scratched at the web of skin between his thumb and index finger.

"Come on then," Flo said, and led him through the crowd.

Cedric had never talked to Flo much. He'd never thought of her as his sort of person, she was too loud and too cheeky. She and her group of friends were always fighting someone – whether each other, other students, or the teachers, it didn't seem to matter to them, as long as they were engaged in some sort of mayhem. Not Cedric's sort of person at all, really. But now he felt infinitely grateful to her, as the crowd of people pushed aside, whispering loudly, and she walked through, seemingly totally impervious.

Flo led them up backstairs and through the odd classroom, to places Cedric was sure he'd never been before.

They met one or two students, all of whom Flo seemed to be great friends with, and eventually turned into a long corridor full of portraits.

"Here we are then," Flo said. "The one of the fat lady. I don't know the password."

"Thank you," Cedric said.

"Anytime," Flo said cheerily, and disappeared in the opposite direction from the one in which they'd come.

(ii)

Cedric paced in front of the portrait for a little while, his heart pounding with nerves. Eventually he could stand it no longer, and rapped on the side of the portrait.

"Don't do that!" the woman said. "You'll give me a headache! Who are you, anyway?"

Cedric was spared of answering, as the portrait swung open from the inside.

It was one of the Weasley twins. Cedric wished Flo had stuck around.

"Oh it's you," the twin said.

"Yes, it's me," Cedric said. "I want to speak to Harry."

"'Course you do," the twin grinned, and disappeared, leaving the hole behind the portrait wide open. Cedric tightened his grip on his palms. It was easier to concentrate on being normal that way.

Cedric saw red armchairs and a bright fire. The twin no longer seemed to be paying the slightest attention to him, and he couldn't see Harry anywhere.

Suddenly he came back. "Harry'll be along in a minute," he said. "Want a toffee?"

Cedric thought it would be impolite to refuse. Unwillingly, he loosened his grip on one of his palms, and took one. The toffees looked perfectly safe, anyway. They were big, fat ones. He began to unwrap one.

"Don't!" Hermione said, suddenly, standing between him and the twins. "Never eat anything they give you," she said.

"Aw, Hermione…"

"Why spoil our fun?"

She raised her eyebrows threateningly, and they laughed at her and wandered off.

"Where's Harry?" Cedric asked, shoving the toffee into his pocket.

"I'll get him," she said. She looked worried, and pushed the portrait to as she left.

Harry appeared very soon after, and climbed out. He didn't say anything.

"Well?" Cedric said.

"I thought you didn't want us to be seen together," Harry said softly.

"Can't do much harm now, can it?" Cedric said.

He walked a little way down the corridor, pacing nervously between the blinking portraits. Harry didn't follow him.

"Did you read it?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "You?"

"No, but I got a letter…"

"Oh," Harry bit his lip. "From your dad?"

"Yeah," Cedric balled his hands into even tighter fists. "I'm – I don't – "

"I hate her," Harry said vehemently. "How does she do this? She hurt Hagrid as well!"

"My dad, he hates her so much. He's says she's always stirring up trouble. He hated what she said about Hagrid too."

"I hate that they all know," Harry said. "It was just – I felt like I finally had something that was just mine."

"I bet my dad hates it more," Cedric said glumly. His fingers, unbidden, were tugging harder at his skin.

"Stop that!" Harry said, suddenly, noticing the frenzy of movement. Cedric had barely been aware of what he was doing, but now he found himself starting at the pain.

Cedric shook his head, not sure what he wanted to do, or say, letting his nails gauge deeper into his flesh.

"Cedric … please stop that," Harry said, and grabbed Cedric's hands, firmly and painfully in his own.

"Harry, I'm…" Cedric began, opening his mouth so he wouldn't dig his teeth into his lip.

"It's alright," Harry said awkwardly, not knowing what he meant.

"You're bleeding," Harry said, after a moment. He loosened his grip and looked at Cedric's torn palms; the soft flesh wrinkled and bloodied, the first few layers of skin tugged away.

"I didn't mean to do it," Cedric said, trying and failing to remove his hands from Harry's sight.

"It's not deep," said Harry, "only your nails. Looks sore though."

"It doesn't really hurt," Cedric said.

Harry rummaged in his robes and found a tissue. He moped at Cedric's hands.

"I'm sorry," Cedric said.

"Me too," Harry said with feeling. "I hate her so much. And I _hate_ that everyone knows. I'm not even gay."

"Don't start that again," Cedric said.

"And you don't do that again," Harry said, wrapping another tissue around Cedric's right hand, which was in slightly worse condition than his left.

"I didn't think about it. Doing that. I just started," Cedric said.

"I wish you wouldn't. Start," Harry said.

"What are we going to do?" Cedric asked.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"Nothing?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "What can we do?"

"We can't stand here much longer," Cedric said. "Someone will come."

"I thought you said it didn't matter anymore?"

"Perhaps we should pretend?" Cedric said.

"Would they believe us?"

"Ernie said he didn't believe the story," Cedric said.

"Well, he's the only one," Harry said. "Most people seem to believe in the _Prophet_."

Cedric sighed. "I don't like standing here."

"The bathroom's near," Harry said.

They walked silently, standing a little apart, Cedric clinging to the tissue.

"They were printing it while we were … while we were…"

"I know," Harry said. He stopped walking and wrapped his arms round Cedric, nuzzling his face into Cedric's neck. Cedric stood stiff for a moment, and then held on to Harry.

"I hate this," Cedric muttered indistinctly into Harry's hair, "Hate it."

"Me too," Harry said quietly.

They started walking again, this time leaning much closer together. They reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, who was asleep but muttering nervously, and Cedric whispered, "pine-fresh," to the door.

It didn't move. It didn't even creak.

"Someone in there?" Cedric asked Harry.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Should we knock?"

"What would we say?" Cedric said.

"We can try again later," Harry said, turning around disconsolately.

"I'm afraid," came a voice from behind, "that that won't help."

They both turned around. It was Professor Flitwick.

"I just changed the password," he said. "One of my duties, you know. A tricky little spell to get them tight enough, particularly on doors unguarded like this one."

He looked at them both for a moment. "Well…" he said. "You'd better come down to my office. Professor Sprout is there too. No need to be worried. We'd just like a little word."

Flitwick's office was large and untidy. Professor Sprout was sitting in an armchair by the fire, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Hullo," she said, putting down a mug of tea.

"Hullo, Professor," Harry said. Cedric seemed too nervous to say anything at all.

"Nasty piece of writing all together. The article on you two wasn't the most venomous thing I've read, but there'll be a lot of howlers in the 'Does Hogwarts encourage Homosexuality?' article on page 5," Professor Flitwick said.

"Tea?" he asked.

Cedric wordlessly shook his head, but Harry accepted a cup.

"We don't usually take these little romances seriously," Professor Sprout said. "Once they are discreet, it's no problem to us. Such a pity that Skeeter woman had too…"

She stopped. Professor Flitwick handed Harry some tea.

"I received a howler from your father this morning, Cedric," Professor Sprout said.

Cedric nodded.

"That's why we had to close off the Prefect's bathroom," she said. "Doesn't look good for us to allow you a private place like that."

Harry nodded, took a sip of tea, and choked.

"We'll have to ask you two to keep as low a profile as you can. Don't meet in public. I don't want to have to take more drastic action," Professor Flitwick said. "It isn't fair and you have my sympathies. But our first priority is the school. Both of you being somewhat in the spotlight at the moment certainly doesn't help matters."

Professor Sprout nodded. She looked uncomfortable. "I need to speak to Cedric alone," she said, giving him a kind smile.

Professor Flitwick led Harry out. "I hope this whole affair won't distract you too much from your schoolwork. I'm giving you an exam tomorrow, you know."

Harry nodded. He'd forgotten all about it.

"Go upstairs and study. Keep your mind off things."

(iii)

Harry hadn't intended to do anything. He'd planned to wait in the common room for a few minuets and then go and find Cedric.

Hermione had waylaid him with books and advice. Ron had looked awkward and tried to help Harry with his pile of ink-splattered notes. Neither of these things had taken Harry's mind off Cedric, but he'd found himself trying to remember Charms he'd learnt in first year and inadvertently sending book raining down on their table.

"Try to concentrate," Hermione said, handing him the relevant notes from under the deluge of books. She was being overly helpful. He barely noticed. He wouldn't have noticed the whispers as he entered a room or usual friends ignoring him if Hermione hadn't kept whispering, "they'll come round, it'll blow over," in a way intended to be comforting.

He caught Cedric's eye at the dinner table and they excused themselves separately. Harry was sure he felt almost every eye on him as he escaped from the throng of people.

"Where?" Cedric asked.

"Up here," Harry said. "It's cold, but…"

He led Cedric into a secret passage he'd found in his third year. It was cold and damp inside. Cedric paced around away from Harry, his head stooped, and Harry shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to lean against the chilly wall.

"Well?" Cedric said, at length.

"What did Sprout say?"

"Not much," Cedric said, pacing. "She gave me some salve for my hands. They've gone numb."

"And?" Harry said.

"Maybe we shouldn't see each other any more," Cedric said.

"What?" Harry said. "Why?" He felt like a cold hand had gripped his spine.

"I haven't even read the bloody article," Cedric said. "I've just got _letters_ and weird stares and freaks like Flo being the only people who'll talk to me."

"I'm sorry about your dad," Harry said, remembering the morning.

"Yeah," Cedric said. "You're so much calmer about this than me."

"I suppose I'm used to it," Harry said. "People paying too much attention to me…"

This wasn't really true, Harry knew. He wasn't exactly used to it. He hated that everyone knew. He hadn't liked even Ron and Hermione knowing. He liked their privacy, how his time with Cedric felt like time spent in another world.

"Well, I'm not," Cedric said. "And my dad is ready to disown me. And Sprout says she's worried about me."

"Well, that's not necessarily a bad thing," Harry said.

"Isn't it?" Cedric said. "No one's felt the need to worry about me before."

Harry shrugged. "I just thought … it could be a lot worse."

"Or better," Cedric said. "I wish it was yesterday again."

"Me too," Harry said. "But they're all just stupid, honestly. Hermione says it'll blow over."

"And Hermione knows all, does she?" Cedric said, surprising himself with the sound in his voice.

Harry's stomach felt tight. He didn't know what to say. Suddenly he remembered Hagrid hiding in his hut.

"Look, Cedric," Harry began, "you can't listen to what people say. Dumbledore said that to Hagrid. That you can't expect worldwide approval, you're never going to get it. You just have to ignore what other people say, and do what you want. If I listened to other people, I'd have hidden myself away in first year. I don't like what happened either, but I'm not going to let that get to me."

Cedric stopped pacing angrily and watched Harry.

Harry didn't notice, "Remember last night? No one knows about that. She can't touch that. The important things are still ours."

Cedric sighed. "You're right, mostly. It's just … it's hard."

"I'm sorry about your dad," Harry repeated.

"I didn't want him to know. I didn't want him to ever know."

"What did he say?" Harry asked, stepping towards Cedric.

Cedric extracted the rumpled letter from his pocket. His eyes flicked over it, smarting.

_Cedric, _

_I can't believe this. Even as I write, I can't believe it. I thought I knew you, son. I've always been so proud of you, even after you told me that you were not normal. I've tried to understand you, to help you, as best I can. _

_Now I can't do any of that any more. I can't say to myself, he may not be everything I'd hoped for, but at least he's a good boy, the sort of son a father can be proud of. _

_I almost cried when I read the Prophet this morning. And you know that men like me don't cry. It was such a shock. You mother and I could hardly speak for upset. I cannot understand how you would let someone find out such a thing. That Rita Skeeter woman of all people! You cried in front of her, and showed her that you're a homosexual. Now everyone will know. Everyone. How can I look anyone in the face again? _

_And with that Potter boy, too. I don't want to think what you've done together. The whole word knows you've kissed him. _

_I could never really believe it before. I could never think that my own son is a homosexual. I can believe it now, Cedric, after what you've done. For the first time, I'm really ashamed of you. _

_Amos _

He didn't want to show the words to Harry.

"Can't believe you'd say such a thing, how can you do this to me, son? In a nutshell," Cedric said. "With a bit more guilt thrown in … and I am not going to cry again."

"Course you're not," Harry said, and went to hug Cedric, but Cedric stepped away.

"After you and Flitwick left, Sprout said she was shocked," Cedric said.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"Yeah," Cedric stood there.

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Harry, I'm sorry," he said. "It's been a long day."

"Can I see you tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Course. Here?"

"It's cold and uncomfortable, just what I've always wanted," Harry said, trying to keep his tone light.

"Wish they hadn't found out about the bathroom," Cedric said.

"The teachers always seem to know everything."

Cedric nodded. He kept pacing.

"It'll be ok, Ced, I promise," Harry said.

"Maybe," Cedric gave a crooked smile before turning away.

**A/n**: Thanks to everyone for being so patient while waiting for this chapter! And many thanks to Jérémie for the wonderful beta.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – That Week 

(i)

Harry wondered, as he wandered dolefully down a corridor, whether he was going to pass his Charms exam on the strength of Summoning Charms alone. He hadn't been able to answer one single other question. That wasn't what made his feet as heavy as if they'd been soaked in concrete, however. Nor was the fact that no one at the Gryffindor table had spoken to him when he'd sat between Ron and Hermione, trying to eat. It was that Cedric hadn't come to meet him beneath the Witch's Hump. It was someone else.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she'd said, and given him a slim letter sealed with yellow wax.

"Where's Cedric?" Harry had asked.

"Couldn't come. Send a reply by owl, he said. I'm sure it explains in there."

Harry had nodded, gripping the letter tight enough to warp the crisp edges.

The girl had clapped him on the shoulder. "It'll be all right. Honest it will," she'd said, and left him standing there.

"Honestly, I don't know how you forgot _Wingardium Leviosa_, everyone knows you can do that one," Hermione said, when he met her as promised in the library.

"I'm not in the mood for this," Harry said, as she pushed a textbook from their second year in front of him.

Her face softened a little. "What did Cedric say then?"

"Nothing. He got someone to give me this." He showed her the letter.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said softly.

For an uncomfortable moment, Harry thought she was going to hug him. Then she said, "haven't you opened it yet?"

"No." Harry laid it gently on top of his textbook.

"Do you want me to open it?" Hermione asked.

"No!" Harry said, and quickly removed the parchment from sight.

"I was only asking," Hermione said. "You ought to open it, you know. It might just say, 'I've thought of a better place to meet…'"

"I doubt that," Harry said.

Hermione turned away, and began writing an essay for Transfiguration. Harry was two essays behind her, and was sure he'd spend their Transfiguration double tomorrow trying to hide from the wrath of McGonagall. He thought momentarily about doing some work, but instead looked at the letter again.

He tore it open so quickly he ripped through the words.

_Harry_, it said. _Not tonight. I can't. Lunchtime tomorrow, behind the greenhouses? _

Cedric hadn't even signed his name Harry noticed, feeling anti-climaxed.

"Well?" Hermione asked, looking up.

Harry showed her. There was no reason not too.

"Well, that's all right then, isn't it?" she said.

Harry shrugged, not knowing how to explain.

Hermione thrust a roll of parchment in front of him. "If you're not going to read your Charms, then you may as well write one of those essays for McGonagall."

"I think I'll go and owl Cedric," Harry said.

"You can do it in the morning," Hermione said, handing him a quill and a pile of her notes.

Harry couldn't work up the energy to argue, and began scratching away gloomily.

(ii)

"Cedric, I'm not going to talk to him for you again," Flo said. "It's unkind. He looked so despondent yesterday."

"I don't know what I'm going to say to him," Cedric said.

"I'm sure something will come to you," said Flo. "Don't ask me again."

Cedric watched her walk away. With fingers that shook slightly, he took his father's letter from his pocket. He laid it on top of his blotting paper, and read it again. It looked grimy on the fresher sheet of paper, the creases were torn because it had been opened so many times.

(iii)

"I'm still looking for those three essays, Potter," McGonagall said after class.

"Well, what are you staring at?" she added to Ron, who left.

"I've got one of them here," Harry said, and dug in his bag. The amount of writing on his parchment looked even smaller than the night before.

"I asked for twelve inches, Potter," she said. "This is barely four. And even if I accepted this, you would still be two essays overdue. Three by Wednesday if you don't have the one from today's class done."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said.

"Sit down, Potter," she said, looking at him from over her glasses.

He sat.

"You have performed so well in the tasks that we did not think they were putting too much strain on you. However, we all know they weren't intended for a boy your age. Is it too much work?"

Harry shook his head. "It's all right, Professor."

"Then it's that Hufflepuff lad."

Harry didn't say anything.

"You prowess doesn't always lie within the classroom, we both know that," McGonagall said. "However, as you generally pass muster, it's rather a shock to see you doing so abysmally."

"Sorry," Harry said again, in an undertone.

McGonagall clicked her tongue. "You usually do quite acceptably in Charms. How did you manage to receive five percent in your last exam?"

"Five percent?" Harry repeated, staring at her.

"Professor Flitwick just told me. He has said that since this is so far below your usual standard, he will let you repeat the exam. Next Wednesday, Potter. You'd better start studying."

"Yes, Professor."

"I allow my students no such liberties. You will bring those four essays, properly written, to my office, on Friday morning, or there will be hell to pay."

"Yes, Professor," Harry agreed gloomily.

"I'm sorry your, er, romantic life has become so public lately. If you have any problems you feel you need to discuss, please bring it up with a member of staff. And if you continue to slip so badly academically, then we'll be forced to take more extreme measures."

Harry nodded.

"Go on then, Potter," McGonagall said, and Harry got to his feet.

Late, now, to meet Cedric, he abandoned all thought of food, and put on an impressive turn of speed as he ran to the greenhouses.

(iii)

_Dear Dad_, Cedric tried, _I'm sorry. _He looked at the letter again, and the way his father had signed himself off as Amos.

_Dear Sir_, he wrote, but that sounded all wrong.

_Dad,_ Cedric wrote. _I miss you. I always do, during school. _He thought how his father would sneer at that too, and tore the sheet in half.

_You're never going to forgive me, are you? _He wrote. _Even though I don't think I did anything wrong. You were so happy when you though I liked Cho. You'd like Harry too. You could talk about Quidditch. _

He ripped this page too, this time by striking out the words so vehemently that his quill went through the parchment.

(iv)

Harry was walking up and down nervously behind the greenhouses. Cedric watched him, not quite moving, willing his body to walk forward, to go to him. He imagined Harry's body in his arms, Harry's head leaning in the crook of his neck.

He turned and fled back to the castle. He thought he heard Harry calling, but he couldn't bring himself to look around.

(v)

"Come on Harry, you know this charm!" Hermione was saying. "We did this in first year."

Harry's head ached. Under Hermione's instruction, he'd managed to scratch out his first essay. It only made him realise how far behind he was, he didn't even know what half the words he'd used meant.

Harry was fairly sure that he knew how to do this charm, too. He'd been unlocking locks so long he barely remember a time when he couldn't do it. But now the lock reminded stoutly fastened, ignoring him as he barked the spell.

All he could think about was Cedric, and the way he'd looked, running.

"I'm going to bed," he said to Hermione.

"It's only eight," she said.

"I can't do this tonight," Harry said.

She nodded.

He hadn't told her about Cedric's disappearance. It still didn't feel quite real.

He sat down heavily in an armchair fairly near the fire.

"Escaped her clutches then?" Ron said. Harry could hear a buzz of whispers get louder as the Gryffindors spotted him and then quieten.

"Couldn't do anything today," he said.

"I wish Flitwick would let me repeat," Ron said. "I only got 45 percent in that exam."

"But at least you don't have to study," Harry said.

"True," Ron grinned and stretched.

"How's Pretty Boy?" he asked quietly.

"Evasive," Harry replied.

"Is that bad?"

"'Course it is," Harry said.

Ron nodded, staring at the fire. "You wouldn't catch me in one of those relationship things," he said.

(vi)

By Thursday, Cedric had stopped trying to write to his father. Words just wouldn't come any more. Only verbs slid around inside his head and when he tried to put them on paper they just made an unappealing mess of meaningless syllables.

Flo told him off for picking at the scabs on his palms. But he didn't listen to her. He sat in a window seat, looking over the grounds. There were faint daubs of colour where crocuses and narcissi were beginning to bud. He wiped the blood off on his robes and laid his throbbing palms on his knees.

At first, people had stared at him and whispered to each other. Now they pretty much left him alone.

"Shouldn't you do your homework?" Flo asked. She kept appearing. "I mean, it's not like I do it myself, but you always have, so you think you'd keep it up."

Cedric didn't say anything. He could see, if he tilted his head sideways so trees didn't obscure the view, the edge of the Great Lake. There was never anyone there.

"Be like that then," Flo said, and stalked off.

_Dear Dad, _Cedric thought, _look what you've done to me. There really isn't anything to be proud of, now. _

(vii)

Professor McGonagall gave Harry a rare smile when he arrived at her office, armed with four essays.

"It's just Charms left," Hermione said, squeezing his arm. Harry, who'd understood everything that went on in his Transfiguration class for the first time in weeks, grinned at her.

"I don't know why you're making me help," Ron complained again. "I practically failed that test too."

"It'll help you learn," Hermione reminded him.

Ron groaned.

Harry saw Cedric in the Great Hall for the first time since Monday. He looked grey, completely washed-out. Harry watched him, distractedly, as he tried to eat. He no longer noticed what Ron and Hermione were saying.

He ran after Cedric as he left the hall.

"Are you alright?" he asked at the door.

Cedric walked away from him, and Harry, heart pounding, followed. Cedric stopped beneath one of the staircases, which cast a grey shadow over both of them.

"I'm alright," he said slowly.

"Are you?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Cedric said.

Harry impulsively grabbed his hands, and saw the sores on the underside of them.

"Oh Cedric," Harry said.

Cedric jerked his hands free, and walked quickly away. Harry slid to the floor, watching the retreating robe, his eyes smarting.

What did I do? He kept thinking. What did I do? Although he didn't think he'd done anything.

(viii)

_Dear Harry, _Cedric composed in his head that night. _I'm so sorry. _

He wanted to write letters of apology to both of them, to his father and to Harry. He wanted to tell them both he loved them and he was sorry and that he didn't know what else to say.

He lay in bed, his hangings open enough to allow the moonlight to fall on his face, wondering hopelessly.

He wanted to explain to his father, but there was only one reply his father could ever give, _for the first time, I'm really ashamed of you. _

That was the brick wall he banged his head against every night. He wondered once, when the moon had gone down, if Cho would take him back. If he could convince his father that he hadn't really liked Harry. But he didn't want to do that.

He tried to imagine holding someone who wasn't Harry and it made him ache.

_I miss you. _

(ix)

"I can't do it, I just can't," Harry said, as he failed for the third time to send a pillow floating anywhere.

"Summoning charms are much more difficult and you have no trouble with them," Hermione said.

Harry shouted at the pillow. Nothing happened.

"Well, it's obviously not working, is it?"

Sunday had turned out to be the first day of the year warm enough to sit outside with any kind of comfort. There had been frost that morning, but it hadn't lingered all day as the previous frosts had been wont to do, and in their sheltered spot close to a tree with a thick canopy, there hadn't been any all year, and the ground was soft, the earth loose.

"Why don't you make the crocus open?" Hermione said, pointing at a large purple bud.

"What's the spell for that?" Harry asked.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said in a bossy voice, and told him.

He tried it six times, his voice getting louder and angrier at every attempt. By the last, faint billows of steam were issuing from between the petals.

"At least I'm doing something," Harry said, but Hermione, for the sake of the plant, begged him to desist.

They tried four other spells with similar results.

"I feel like I'm turning into Neville," Harry said. "And all I can think about is Cedric."

"Well Neville certainly passed that Charms test, so turning into him mightn't be such a bad thing," Hermione said. "He doesn't sit around moping over Cedric either."

"Well, maybe you should spend some time with him if he's so much better company."

"Honestly, Harry, do you have to take everything so personally?" Hermione snapped.

"I do if it is personal!" Harry said.

They both stared at each other, eyes narrowed. Hermione's will broke first, and she stood up and stamped away.

"Keep practising!" she shouted behind her.

Harry leant back against the tree, drawing his legs up to his chest.

He shouted the growth spell at the crocus, over and over, until the petals just melted away. He got up and stamped on the wrinkled plant.

"Bastard, bastard, bastard!" he shouted at it, and felt tears of rage springing to his eyes.

(x)

After almost twenty minuets, the sight of Harry, face contorted, became too much for Cedric. He stood up, his legs cramping a little from sitting still for so long, and folded his father's letter so violently the creases broke and it came away in three pieces. He let them flutter to the floor.

He took one more look at Harry, and ran to the stairs, enjoying the clatter his feet made on the wooden steps.

He found Harry sitting under the same tree, his face twisted from trying to hold back sobs.

"Harry," he said, and knelt beside him.

Harry blinked at him. "Hullo," he said in a choked voice.

"You alright?" Cedric asked, softly.

"No," Harry said. "You?"

"No."

Cedric brushed Harry's hair back from his sweaty forehead.

"Anything particular the matter?" he asked.

"I can't do Charms and I have an exam on Wednesday," Harry said.

"I can help you," Cedric said.

He sat down, leaning against the same part of the tree as Harry was.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked.

Cedric shrugged.

"Your hands are a state. And you ought to eat," Harry said.

"Yes. Probably," Cedric agreed.

"Help me open this crocus," Harry said. "And then we'll get lunch."

**Author's note: **So many apologies for the delay. This is unbeta'd. Apologies for that, too. Thanks so much for all the wonderful feedbacks.


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